


Clandestine

by parsleylion



Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Drugs, M/M, Rock and Roll, Sex, oh and a shit load of angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 16:29:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 132,065
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12303072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/parsleylion/pseuds/parsleylion
Summary: This is the tale of six friends and their journey as they follow their dreams and their garage band turns into a crowd rocking monster; drugs, sex, rock and roll and conflicting relationships meet them on their way but will they help them grow or hinder them more?





	1. Note to self, I miss you terribly

_[November 1999]_

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I groaned and rolled onto my side, cursing loudly when my elbow connected with the side of my bunk and a sharp jolt of pain shot through my inappropriately named funny bone.

  
  


“Shit. Fuck. Ouch.”

  
  


“Chester are you coming out today? This year perhaps?”

  
  


“Alright, alright,” I growled, rubbing my stinging arm as I navigated my sleepy body out of the cramped confines of the makeshift bed in the back of a clapped out van that I had found myself calling home for the past few weeks. After untangling myself from my twisted sheets and pulling on what looked like one of my shirts, I stood in the small aisle that ran between either wall of cupboards, face to face with the owner of the voice that had broken into my deep sleep.

  
  


Mike.

  
  


He looked frustrated, pissed off, annoyed perhaps that it had been him who’d had to come back to the RV to tell me that sound check was probably less than an hour away and I should get my lazy self out of bed. I didn’t blame him for looking that way. I would have more than likely held the same look of desperation had I been in his current role. Everyone knew I was  _not_  a morning person.

  
  


Mike scratched his head, cleared his throat and muttered something about me getting dressed in

something warm because subzero temperatures had graced the world outside. In reply I nodded and scanned the floor for my bag as he headed out to the kitchen area, stopping briefly to pick something up from the table.

  
  


Somehow, I managed to get dressed in record time, swiftly pulling on a clean pair of jeans and a thick black hoody that I’d found in a ball on the floor. I wasn’t sure who it actually belonged to, just thankful for the fact that it was of a warm and snugly texture and it smelt of washing powder mixed with a faint scent of weed. Which led me to believe it was Mike’s. As did the expression on his face when I grabbed my bag, slung it over my shoulder and stood before him in the kitchen where he was looking at me with a slight smirk.

  
  


“Out of the extensive wardrobe you own, you still find it necessary to wear my clothes,” he grinned a little, his previously darker mood seeming to have lifted.

  
  


“Ahh but that’s the highest of compliments,” I told him jokingly, watching as he took a hit from a joint I’d only just noticed was grasped in between his slender fingers. The reason for his lift in mood becoming apparent.

  
  


“Bullshit! It was the first thing you found, more like!”

  
  


“Yeah, and that,” I nodded with a smile.

  
  


He chuckled and shook his head, nudging me with his elbow.

  
  


“Come on, we’ll be late. Rocky is in one hell of a bad mood this afternoon,” he sighed, referring to the guy who had appointed himself as our manager. He was a friend of a friend of my Fathers and claimed to know all there was to know in the music business. I’d yet failed to see his knowledge. He was mid forties, a little extravagant and one of those people who’s mood swings came and went more than those of a teenage girl.

  
  


“Great,” I sighed, following Mike through the somewhat cluttered van, “What are we supposed to have done wrong today?” I asked him, climbing over what looked like a pile of dirty laundry before following Mike down the steps of the van.

  
  


“Fuck knows,” he replied, briefly taking a long deep drag from his joint before he attempted to lock the door.

  
  


I watched in amusement for a few seconds before I dropped my bag to the floor. Sure, high Mike meant happy Mike, which was good. It also meant slightly unable to lock doors Mike. Which wasn’t so good because he was right, it was absolutely freezing cold and the longer he fumbled about with the Yale lock, the colder my balls were getting.

  
  


In the end I gently nudged him out of the way and locked the door myself, pocketing the keys in my bag before I slung it back over my shoulder and we began to make our way across the frost covered parking lot. Our pace was slow and I kept my eyes glued to the concrete below me which was covered in a fine sprinkling of ice, because I had a tendency of slipping on my ass as soon as winter came around and I was anywhere near a patch of ice. Unfortunately Mike knew this as he’d been with me the time I’d skidded halfway across a road after my battered converse shoes had made contact with a patch of black ice. I’d broken my arm and had to have stitches above my right eye. It had only been about a year ago and the memory was still sore. More so on my ego than anything else.

  
  


That’s probably why Mike kept nudging me and I kept growling and swearing at him. We no doubt looked a bit of an odd sight as I gingerly tiptoed along and Mike alternated between taking a hit of his smoke and nudging me in the side with his bony elbow. If anyone hadn’t had seen us emerging from our slightly run down and dusty RV which housed the rest of the band and Rocky and had  _‘Hybrid Theory : Master Bay Tour here we fucking come’_  etched into the dirt on the side they might have thought we were completely knackers. But the fact that we  _had_  emerged from that camper-van-come-home and were in a band who had been touring seedy bars and clubs for god knows how long seemed to somehow justify the way we were staggering along; the way we both looked like we’d just come out of some bad punk rock film. Mike’s hair was bright red with blue streaks weaving through it, his right eye was black from an incident he’d had with his guitar the night before and putting it politely he looked like he could do with a good wash. My unkempt Mohawk was flapping about in the wind, dyed a garish pink colour and matted with gel and remnants of the washing up liquid that Mike had used to wash it with the other day. I stank of cigarettes and cheap liqueur and the black nail polish that adorned my bitten down nails was flaking away; chipping off and fading very much like I felt on that bitterly cold morning.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


Stopping my audacious thoughts, the sound of Mike’s voice made me look up and I realised that I’d conquered the ice rink and we were now safely standing before the back door of the venue we were playing tonight. One of the panes of glass was smashed. Another above it was missing and had been replaced with a flimsy looking piece of plywood. Sellotaped to it was a ripped poster which read in bold, black type :  _‘For one night only! Top rock gods ‘Killertricks’ live at the basement! With support act ‘High Bird Theories’Doors open eight pm._

  
  


I sighed and pushed the door open. It was going to be one of those days.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


“Mike! You’re the one that was fucking moaning about Mr. Bennington here not gracing us with his presence on the one time we actually have a decent amount of sound check time allocated to us and then you come back stoned? What the fuck is wrong with you…”

  
  


I sat on the edge of the stage, my feet swinging to and fro as Brad Delson, the biggest woman in the world and another sixth of the band I was in continued his screaming. I half watched as he carried on shouting at Mike, waving his hands about in the air, edging towards my best friend like some guitar wielding maniac.

  
  


I took a drag of my cigarette and glanced at my watch wishing he’d shut up already. He acted like the fucking manager half the time and as I looked back up at him, I couldn’t help but laugh. His long curly hair was flapping about at all angles, making Mike’s dishevelled mop of red and blue spikes look like something out of a top hairdressing contest. His skinny frame was dressed in a check shirt and a pair of black jeans and as his hands waved about, the collection of chains and beads that graced his arms jingled about, emphasising each word he seemed to be hissing. That guy needed anger management. Pronto.

  
  


“… This is not the way to behave Mike. We have people coming to this show tonight, important people…”

  
  


My ears perked up and I had to wonder who exactly these ‘important’ people were. The pope? The Queen of fucking Sheba? Stevie Wonder? Jonathan Davies? Scott ‘Fuck Me’ Weiland perchance? No, they were more than likely a figment of Brad’s imagination but I didn’t raise the subject because someone plonked themselves down beside me and snatched the cigarette that was placed between my lips.

  
  


It was Phoenix, resident bass player and he looked just as forlorn and bored as I felt. His auburn hair was hidden beneath a black and red striped beanie, freckles scattering over his pale skin as his cheeks puffed out and he smiled at me before taking a drag of my cigarette.

  
  


“How long has this been going on?” he asked, flicking the ash onto the floor a few feet below us.

  
  


“Too long,” I groaned, looking up just as Brad began another barrage of verbal assault on Mike.

  
  


“… What’s this going to achieve hey? We’ve got no chance of a decent sound check now because our emcee is high off his fucking head! Ugh! Just get out my fucking face already!”

  
  


I watched as Brad stormed off, practically throwing his guitar to the ground before he disappeared through one of the steel doors to the back of the stage. Mike turned away and walked over to the far wall, his tanned fists clenched beside him before he brought them up and in one swift moved slammed them against the red bricked surface.

  
  


“Shit,” Phi uttered from beside me.

  
  


I got to my feet and marched over to where Mike was making holes in the wall, quickly grabbing him by the wrists before he caused any more damaged.

  
  


“Whoa calm down,” I told him, attentively placing a hand against the small of his back, “You know what Brad’s like. He’s the guy that gets pissy if you butter the wrong side of his toast…”

  
  


“Let go,” he mumbled and it wasn’t until he turned around that I saw he was crying.

  
  


“Hey…”

  
  


He didn’t let me finish, just pulled himself out of my grasp and marched back across the stage, his legs hurriedly carrying him down a set of stairs and out of one of the side exits. I stared down at my hands. They were covered in blood. Wiping them down the front of my hoody, I was about to go after him when Phi’s hands met with my chest.

  
  


“Leave him,” he told me, his arms falling to his sides.

  
  


I wiped my hands on my hoody once again and turned to where Rob, our drummer was sat, hunched over his drum kit with a rather solemn looked upon his face. He let his drumsticks fall to the floor before he got up, stretching his tall body out and running a bony hand through his dark, cropped hair.

  
  


“I guess I’ll see you guys before the gig,” he murmured, jumping down off the stage and walking away.

  
  


“Guess so,” I sighed, idly wondering if there were any chance of us even bothering to perform tonight.

  
  


“Well I hate to say it, but unless those two make it up we’re royally fucked…”

  
  


Looking up, my eyes met Joe’s who up until now had been sat behind his decks, his headphones slung around his neck, eye deep in records.

  
  


“Yeah thanks for pointing that out Joe,” I sighed, wiping my forehead with the back of my hand.

  
  


He shrugged and removed his headphones, placing them down against his decks before jumping down onto the stage. I watched as the Korean DJ swiftly walked across the wooden floor, his blue shell suit rustling with every step he took, fading away as he disappeared down one of the corridors. Phi let a sigh out and turned away, following him in his direction.

  
  


And then there was just me.

  
  


I lay down in the middle of the stage, grabbed my microphone and raised it to my lips before taking a deep breath.

  
  


“I HATE EVERYONE!”

  
  


My voice reverberated across the small room and I let the microphone drop to the floor, wincing as the sound of it crashing against the wooden boards crashed into my ears.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


I can look back on that moment right now and see that it’s probably where all the shit  _really_  began to happen. You just don’t see it at the time though, do you?

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I groaned and rolled onto my side, cursing loudly when my elbow connected with the side of my bunk and a sharp jolt of pain shot through my inappropriately named funny bone.

  
  


“Shit. Fuck. Ouch.”

  
  


My eyes snapped open as a sudden sense of deja-vu sank into my mind. Please God, not another day like yesterday. Please, oh please, oh  _fucking_  please. I silently begged whoever the hell was up above but a sudden sensation of a finger being jabbed into my empty stomach put an end to my wishful thinking.

  
  


It was Mike and I wordlessly moved over in the bed I’d managed to sleep in for a second night running. Any other time and I would have been inwardly ecstatic over it… only the events of the previous day had made sure I wasn’t going to find much at all to smile about. Mike sat down, crossed his legs and fiddled with his fingers for a few seconds until he finally looked up at me, a sigh escaping his parted lips.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” he sighed.

  
  


“What for?”

  
  


He looked at me and scowled, “You know what for.”

  
  


“If you mean for going awol on us last night, for worrying the crap out of me and making me think you’d been raped or murdered or god knows what then fine,” I snapped.

  
  


“Fine?”

  
  


“Yes,  _fine_ ,” I sighed.

  
  


“I really am sorry. I didn’t mean to let you guys down last night…”

  
  


“What? That was the last thing on our minds Mike! I was  _this_  close to calling the police. I had all these fucking visions of dogs sniffing in dirty alleyways for your body, divers scouring drains and ditches,” I began to sniff, “Don’t you ever do that to me again.”

  
  


“Chaz I…”

  
  


I got to my feet, stumbled out of the bunk and into the cramped confines that surrounded me.

  
  


“Just leave it. I’ve had enough, okay?” I spat, storming off down to the front of the van.

  
  


“Chester please, don’t walk off, I need you,” I heard him whimper, his voice softening, “I really need you.”

  
  


I stopped and let out a sigh. Mike wasn’t one to guilt trip, so I knew damn well that there was something behind his desperate cries. A pain rushed through my chest. In all the two years that I’d known him, I’d never heard him cry the way he was now. Turning around, I paced back over to him, a pang in my heart as I saw the state he was in.

  
  


“I’m sorry. It’s just early and I didn’t get much sleep what with all the arguing and y’know I’m not a morning person. I just need coffee. Buy me coffee and I’m all yours,” I smiled, nudging him.

  
  


He looked up at me and wiped his eyes, “I can’t,” he half smiled, “We’re kinda, not stopping for another few hours…”

  
  


“What?” My eyes went wide and I looked around, feeling the breeze flowing in from the sunroof and watching the clouds as they zoomed over us.

  
  


“We’re moving?” I exclaimed, “Ugh. The one time I actually want to drink piss weak coffee and I can’t,” I groaned as I flopped down beside Mike in a dramatic manner.

  
  


“I have chocolate,” he smiled.

  
  


“Okay, now you’re talking.”

  
  


Suddenly the day didn’t seem that bad. The sun was shining and I had chocolate.

  
  


God, who was I kidding?

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  


“So what happened?” I whispered, unwrapping the pink coloured foil that covered my bar of chocolate.

  
  


The privacy curtain was drawn across and Mike lay beside me in the bunk, methodically pealing off the wrapper of his hazelnut swirl bar. I, myself, had gone for the strawberry dream. It reminded me of my last boyfriend Joshua and the passion we’d shared for strawberries and cream. We’d spent many a night in bed exploring the possibilities of whipping cream and the plump, red fruit. Happy days when I had a place to live and someone to curl up to at night.

  
  


I let out a sigh, got pissed off with trying to tear the foil neatly, ripped it off and placed a chunk of the white chocolate into my mouth. It wasn’t unlike my best friend to go awol. It had just been a long time since he’d done it. And even though he was my best friend, he’d never said much about why he had a tendency to take off for a few days without a word and little explanations upon his return as to why he’d buggered off. He’d done it when we were recording a demo tape; the time we’d been across the other side of America and living in a squat whilst we played small gigs in the surrounded area. It wasn’t uncommon. It was just Mike for you. Quiet. Mr. Mysterious. That’s what he was. He kept himself to himself but slowly but surely across the years I’d known him, he’d started to let me in behind the hard brick walls that he’d built around him.

  
  


I took another square of my chocolate bar and placed it in my mouth, watching Mike who was still fiddling with the wrapper, his fingers shaking as they clawed and picked at the paper. In the end I took his hand, making his actions cease and his face look up at me.

  
  


“Stop fidgeting and tell me what’s wrong,” I told him sternly. Well, as stern as you can be when you’ve got a mouthful of a chocolate bar that reminds you of the best oral sex of your life.

  
  


“It was just the argument with Brad,” he sighed.

  
  


“What, that made you storm off and go walkabout for the rest of the night?” I asked, breaking another chunk of chocolate off.

  
  


He nodded his head.

  
  


It was understandable. I’d been on the receiving end of Brad Delson’s killer bad moods many a time. He always won, even against me and my stubborn ways. He had the ability to make anyone feel like they deserved a long walk alone after he’d raised his voice. But after yesterdays debacle between my best friend and the harsh spoken guitarist, Mike had disappeared for the whole night, our slot alongside the Killertricks had been jeopardized and the five of us, plus Rocky had spent the night trying to find Mike. It hadn’t been that much fun.

  
  


“Where’d you go then?” I asked.

  
  


“Oh just some seedy pub. It was worse than the place we were… meant to do a show at,” he let out a sigh.

  
  


“Then what? You got blinding drunk and fucked by some stranger in a bathroom stall?”

  
  


He didn’t answer, just kept on fiddling with the wrapper of his bar of chocolate.

  
  


“Come on Mike, this is me you’re talking to. Don’t sit there and be all quiet on me. So you got fucked by some stranger and then what?”

  
  


He sighed and looked up, “Then I drank some more and then I wondered around until I finally found my way back here and then Brad yelled at me some more…”

  
  


“And you feel better for meeting this stranger?”

  
  


His eyes narrowed at me, “What do you think?”

  
  


“I think you need to listen to what I told you the other week. So I’ll repeat it. You can’t keep doing this to yourself, you can’t keep going off and getting drunk, ending up with some guy you don’t even know the

name of, Mike. What good does it do?”

  
  


He shrugged.

  
  


“Mike,” I sighed in exasperation.

  
  


“Okay it makes me feel good for a while. When I’m too drunk to think about everything I feel like I can escape and when there’s some guy who I don’t even fancy one bit touching me up I don’t stop them

because I…” he paused, “It makes me feel wanted…”

  
  


I stared at him, a feeling of guilt washing over me. Mike had been doing this for as long as I’d known him. He wasn’t some kind of whore, well, okay he was in a way because he slept around, not bothered about the consequences. I’d known it wasn’t because he had some egotistical plan of seeing how many men he could screw, because he wasn’t like that. I’d never known the real reason though, not until now, and hearing it kinda left me a little dazed.

  
  


“But…” I stopped, reaching my hand out to his, “Mike that’s… Why didn’t you tell me all of this before? We all get lonely but I didn’t know you were feeling that. Some fucking friend I am.”

  
  


“Well now you know,” he sighed, “Your best friend is a slut because he can’t stand the thought of being alone…”

  
  


“But you’re not alone! You’ve got me and the others, we all care for you so much. So you’ve had your ups and downs with Brad lately, but who doesn’t? Mike please stop doing this…”

  
  


He let out a sigh, “I only do it because for a few moments it makes me feel good…”

  
  


“You’re really that miserable, hey?”

  
  


He sighed again.

  
  


“Why didn’t you say? You promised me you’d tell me everything.”

  
  


“I’m telling you now.”

  
  


I stared back at him, seeing that vulnerable, naïve person; the boy with the killer smile which only seemed to hide what he was feeling inside. I watched him as he stared back at me and thought back to the day we first met, one summer five years ago when we’d both been working dead end jobs at the same grocery store. A warm feeling filled me up inside. I could feel the sun, see the golden fields that surrounded the store, taste the cheap cigarettes that we used to share out there during our breaks. We’d been best friends ever since and I’d always felt this connection with Mike, always thought that we had the ability to figure each others problems out but maybe I’d been wrong?

  
  


Things felt like they’d changed, yet they were the same and things felt the same, yet they’d changed. Confusing, I know. But here was the same kid that I’d met five years ago, just as messed up and fucked up as I was. I smiled at him and wrapped my arms around his body because sometimes actions speak louder than words.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


I looked around the booth that the six of us were squeezed into and couldn’t help but let a small giggle roll off my lips. We looked even worse than Mike and I had done on our walk across the parking lot the day before.

  
  


To my left sat Phoenix. He was wearing some old woolly pullover that looked like something your Grandfather would find appealing. It had more moth holes in it than I cared to count and smelt somewhat unsavoury. His hair was today covered by an old trucker style cap, but chunks of it were poking out from underneath, sticking out at all angels. Opposite him sat Joe, still in his blue shell suit that made him look like a football coach rather than a DJ of a band. Beside him sat Rob, who was almost asleep; his head resting against his hand as he struggled to stay awake. Brad was next, his eyes keeping an unnerving gaze on Mike. I watched for a few minutes, thinking what a prat he looked with his hair tied back into a ponytail and his scrawny body hidden beneath an over sized and faded Vans shirt and a pair of khaki trousers that rustled just as loudly as Joe’s shell suit. Then there was Mike who was sitting next to me and looking paler and sicker by the second. His hair was flattened down and he now had two rather bruised and sore looking hands to go with his black eye. His black eyeliner was smudged, eyes bloodshot and red. There were love bites all over his neck which he’d tried to hide with his black scarf and pretty much failed to do so. He kept fidgeting and looking down at the stained table in front of him, pulling the sleeves of his black hoody down over his hands.

  
  


I dread to think what I looked like but all in all, cramped together in the seedy diner we looked a bloody state. I thanked God for Rocky who was coming back from the counter with a tray full of steaming mugs of coffee. He placed it down on the table and grabbed a chair which he sat on at the end of the booth, nodding and smiling as everyone muttered their appreciation for the much welcome nourishment that he was providing.

  
  


We all drank in silence, most likely simultaneously begging that the food come quickly before Rocky have a chance to talk to us about last night’s little fiasco. Well, all of us except Brad, I’m sure. Because he loved a drama, he loved a ‘discussion’ and a chance to sit there and be all smug and ‘I was right’ about things.

  
  


I found myself looking up at Brad again. We had a love-hate relationship. Had done ever since we’d first met. He was Mike’s friend from High School, who Mike had pre-warned me that he would come across as being a bit of an arrogant fucker, but deep down, when you got to know him, he was nice as pie. I’d either still not gotten to know him better then, or, as my better judgement told me, he  _was_  an arrogant fucker.

  
  


Mike, Brad and Rob had started this band about a year before I met them, and not long after I’d started to hang about with Mike, he’d asked me to join them. They’d needed a bass player and a vocalist and it just so happened that I could do both… to a degree. I wangled myself some singing lessons from my Father’s friend. An hours voice coaching cost me one blowjob.

  
  


I was being all jovial about it now, but it actually disgusted me to pieces.

  
  


I hadn’t been terribly good with the bass and that’s pretty much what made me see that Brad and I would never get on. He could have used a little more tact, some decorum perhaps? But, if I remember rightly his exact words were : ‘My fucking Nan could play better than you and she’s backwards, blind and has a prosthetic arm.’ I smacked him over the head with his guitar, ultimately winning myself further points in his ‘Who to be a bastard to’ book.

  
  


“Chester? Chester?”

  
  


I jumped and looked up to see Brad himself speaking my name.

  
  


“Sorry?” I asked, forcing my politeness with him, as ever.

  
  


Rocky cleared his throat, “We need to discuss last night,” he paused, looking at Mike than over at Brad, “In a friendly manner.”

  
  


“Sure,” the rest of us seemed to mumble at once.

  
  


“Okay then. I want to take this moment to remind you that you are all supposed to be friends,” he stopped, looking around at the six of us, before continuing, “I know that circumstances are a little unusual and that life on the road is tough, it’s therefore understandable that tempers get frayed a little but that is no excuse for what happened yesterday.”

  
  


His calm persona was fast wearing off, the creases in his brow making themselves that bit more visible. I begged the kitchen staff hurry up and bring our food out already.

  
  


“Mike,” Rocky turned to look at the nervous wreck beside me, “You get stoned in your own time. Not when you have a gig to perform. You also don’t bugger off without telling anyone. Not only did you let everyone down and lose us money, you also worried the hell out of us. I want your word that it won’t happen again. I’m trying to help you guys on the road to success, not the road to hell.”

  
  


“It won’t happen again,” Mike said, finally looking up from the table, “I’m sorry you guys…”

  
  


No one really said anything and Rocky took a breath and turned to Brad who up until now I swear was smirking at the treatment Mike had been getting.

  
  


“As for you Brad, I understood your argument with Mike but shouting and yelling at him was not the way to do it. I want the pair of you to apologise to one another…”

  
  


Brad sat there staring at Mike, who in turn was doing the same.

  
  


“Come on,” Rob was the one who finally interjected their game of ‘who can glare the best’, “Apologise already! This is stupid…”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” Mike whispered.

  
  


“Me too,” Brad grumbled.

  
  


“Well that went well,” Rocky sniped, taking a sip of his drink, “Maybe next time you fall out you’ll have grown up enough to  _not_  need my refereeing skills. Now, can we all put things into perspective here? Show. Tonight. On stage at nine o’clock. We’ll eat then go and run through the set. I want no shit, understand?”

  
  


As if on queue one of the young waiters came over with our food. We sat and ate it in silence.

  
  
  


*

  
  


Things felt like they were calming down after that day, but now I think about it, that was just the eerily quiet period before everything happened, before everything spiralled out of control and we didn’t even see what was happening right before our eyes.


	2. This is what we call a tragedy

It was a week later when we finally got a day off and the luxury of stopping over night in a cheap motel. I use the word luxury very lightly. It stank of cigarettes and alcohol and as I laid on the creaky double bed that took up the majority of the room I was sharing with Rob I could hear the sound of whoever was in the room next door. They were having sex and weren’t being at all quiet about it.

  
  


Not an awful lot had happened during the past seven days. Brad had become quiet, almost back to the state I liked him in when he’d actually smile and make polite conversation with me. He seemed to be getting along better with Mike, had even asked to room with him. I just hoped they’d not fallen out and killed one another. Mike had bleached my hair and I, in turn had bleached his and coloured it blue. Phoenix had shaved his head and was no longer hiding beneath odd hats, Joe had actually washed his shell suit and Rob had shaved off the awful moustache that had grown on his upper lip during the past month. It had just been another uneventful week in my life, one very much like any other that my life had seen ever since our band had been moving from place to place around the country and attempting to find someone who gave a fuck about our music.

  
  


“I don’t want to sleep,” Rob suddenly stated from where he lay beside me on the bed, having just finished the joint he’d been smoking. I thought that stuff was supposed to chill you out but I figured that, knowing Rob, it had been laced with something a little stronger and now he was going to be restless for the rest of the night.

  
  


“I mean I’m absolutely whacked but I don’t want to sleep. I want to do something…”

  
  


“You should have gone down to the bar with the others,” I yawned, “Well, Joe, Phi and the crew…”

  
  


“Nah, I’m not in a drinking mood.”

  
  


“Read a book then.”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


I rolled my eyes and smiled at him. Rob was like a little kid at times yet quite possibly the most mature out of all of us. He was a couple of years younger than me and he’d been the more accommodating out of him and Brad when we first met. He’d welcomed me with open arms to the band and been all to happy to hang about with me. He was still to this day my smoking buddy. When everyone else in the group was getting to us we’d just slip off and smoke our way through several packets of cheap cigarettes.

  
  


“You could write a song. I’m thinking we need new material,” I mused, “Mind you, that might not be a wise idea. I mean what was it you and wrote last week? ‘If Pamela Anderson had a dick, I’d do her’?”

  
  


Rob laughed, “That was Phi and what I meant was, I’m in one of those moods where I should really go to sleep but I don’t want to… I am so whacked.”

  
  


“Sleep then!”

  
  


“I can’t!”

  
  


“Masturbate then,” I told him simply, turning the page of the Anne Rice novel I was reading, “That normally gets me to sleep.”

  
  


“I can hardly do that with you here can I?”

  
  


“I really don’t mind,” I smirked, my eyes scanning over the text in front of me.

  
  


“Pervert. You’d like that wouldn’t you? You’d like to watch me touch myself, I bet you’d even join in.”

  
  


“You know damn well I would,” I quipped, frowning for a second as I lost, then found the paragraph I was on.

  
  


“Seriously?” Rob nudged me until I finally looked up at him, “It makes perfect sense you know,” he continued, “See I could just really use a fuck... And besides, I read somewhere that casual sex with friends is good."

  
  


I slammed my book shut, images of erotica flashing through my mind. Images of Rob writhing about beneath me in a mass of sweat. I didn’t know if it was the book or Rob’s dirty mouth, but whatever it was, I was getting more and more turned on by the second. I stared at him, watching his baby face as he smiled back at me.

  
  


“What?” he asked innocently.

  
  


“You know very well what! Stop those thoughts right this minute. Now even,” I laughed, prodding him in the ribs with my bookmark.

  
  


“Come on,” he grinned, “You know you want it,” he chuckled, suddenly leaning forward.

  
  


I watched in amusement when he raised his eyebrows before pushing himself up on his elbows so he was now resting at the same level as me. We sat there staring at one another for a good few seconds, our noses almost touching when suddenly the sound of someone banging on the door echoed through the room. I was quick to jump up as Rob flopped back down against the creaking mattress and I thanked God for whoever was standing the other side of that door because they’d saved me from doing an extremely foolish thing. Sure, I liked Rob, but he was my friend, nothing more, nothing less and that’s how it was going to stay. A haphazard moment of me not thinking straight was  _not_  going to change that.

  
  


Mike was standing the other side of the door when I opened it. I smiled and stood aside, allowing him to step in before I shut the door behind me.

  
  


“Hey,” I greeted him, immediately aware of the distant look upon his face. Either he was in a foul mood, or he’d fallen out with Brad. Again.

  
  


“Brad’s gone drinking with the others. You don’t mind if I stop by for a while? I didn’t really want to be on my own,” he smiled softly.

  
  


“Do you even need to ask?” I smiled, patting him on the back, “Make yourself at home. Well, as much as you can in a stuffy motel room that has enough dust inside it to fill an industrial sized vacuum hoover,” I pondered, smiling lightly at Rob who was just straightening out his shirt as he slipped out of the bed.

  
  


“So did they say where they were going?” Rob asked Mike as he shoved his feet into a worn pair of skate shoes.

  
  


“Just to the bar downstairs. I think they plan on getting extremely drunk and don’t want to have to walk far to their rooms,” came Mike’s reply, somewhat good-humoured but he spoke in a serious tone, not taking his eyes off the window he’d sat down in front of.

  
  


“I think I’ll go and join them,” Rob stated, grabbing his jacket off the back of the chair Mike had slung himself across.

  
  


“Oh, I thought you weren’t in a drinking mood,” I mused out aloud.

  
  


“It doesn’t take much to make me sway to the bar,” he smiled, walking over to me, “Beside, I think Mike needs to talk to you by the looks of things,” he spoke softly, glancing over at our emcee who was fidgeting restlessly in the battered armchair.

  
  


“It’s not about what just… almost…”

  
  


“No,” Rob smiled, the look on his face reassuring me, “I’d say we had a much needed interruption?”

  
  


I nodded my head in agreement and Rob said his goodbyes before leaving the room. I shut the door behind him and turned around, watching Mike for a few seconds as his long fingers picked at the yellow coloured stuffing that was escaping through rips in the armchair. He picked at it in an almost nervous manner, seemed away in a world of his own as I crept up behind him and placed my hands upon his shoulders. He jumped and looked back at me, his eyes momentarily looking fragile and scared before they flicked back to looking tired and worn.

  
  


“What’s wrong?” I asked, kneeling down beside the chair and running my hand through his hair.

  
  


“Nothing. I just wanted to come and see you, that’s all.”

  
  


“You didn’t want to talk about anything then?” I asked, attentively reaching for one of his hands.

  
  


They were still badly bruised from his fight with the brick wall last week, but I couldn’t help but wonder if they were  _too_  bruised. They were still covered in sick, black smudges, and looked like they’d been banged into bricks and cement just the other day, not week. I was probably just thinking too hard though. I was tired and always worried over Mike at the best of times. I couldn’t help it though. I knew things about him that he couldn’t even bring himself to whisper about. I only knew these things because he’d written them down in a letter to me; a tear stained collection of papers that had told me his every secret. Maybe that’s why I was always aware of his state of mind, his tendency to go from happy to sad in a matter of seconds. I just couldn’t help but feel the need to mother him at times.

  
  


“I guess…”

  
  


Mike was speaking and I looked back up at him as he yawned and let out a sigh.

  
  


“What’s wrong? Did you and Brad argue again?”

  
  


“Yes, we argued,” he sighed.

  
  


I got to my feet and sat down on the arm of the chair, “What about?”

  
  


“Anything that Brad could find to argue over really.”

  
  


“I thought that things between you two were okay though?” I asked, draping my legs over his and pulling the sleeves of my torn hoody down over my hands.

  
  


“They were. They are, until Brad decides that he wants to pick at everything I do, and complain about the little things about me that irk him.”

  
  


I sighed. Brad infuriated me. He didn’t do if often, but he seemed to enjoy putting Mike down at times. I couldn’t tell if it was his idea of a joke, or if he got a kick out of doing it. Mike always told me it was best to ignore it, but how could I when it was obviously hurting my best friend?

  
  


“What was it this time? Wearing the wrong shade of nail polish?”

  
  


Mike smiled slightly, “One of these days it will be just that. No, he was just going on at me about the other day when I went off… He kept telling me how immature and irresponsible I was and how I was behaving just like… you…”

  
  


I felt myself tense up.

  
  


“I told him to stop being a jerk, I told him that you’re nothing like that but he always has that fucking smug look on his face. I just had to get out of there. It’s so petty, I know, but sometimes I just feeling like I‘m fighting a lost battle with him.”

  
  


“I know exactly how that feels,” I sighed, “Listen, I can sit here and tell you what an asshole I think he is, but I won’t because he’s your friend…”

  
  


“He’s your friend too, Chester. Deep down he is…”

  
  


I ignored him, “Well, maybe you guys should just give one another a bit of distance for a while. It sometimes helps. Like when Joe was getting on my nerves a couple of months ago? I didn’t go near him for a week and now, we’re getting on fine. It may not be the most conventional way to go about things, but I think it works.”

  
  


Mike nodded and smiled at me, those eyes of his flashing the vast amount of vulnerability that lay deep inside of him. I wrapped my arms around him and gave him a hug. He closed his eyes and squeezed me back and I couldn’t help but smile. Being with Mike meant I could completely be myself. I could tell him anything and everything without feeling scared. I could open my heart and pour out words that I couldn’t let others hear. I could hug him and kiss him and feel totally at ease because he was my best friend; this beautiful thing that I’d quite frankly be lost without.

  
  


And when he looked at me with that naivety that I’m sure only I could see, I couldn’t help but hold him. His letter had told me many things, so many deep and meaningful words had been penned onto those pages. So many unwanted memories had been shared. I could remember so clearly about the time after I’d read the letters, and I’d asked him about things he’d told me. He’d not been able to speak about everything but there had been one thing that after a little pushing he’d opened up about.

  
  


I’d cried when I’d read his neatly formed handwriting, as it had spoken out to me; it’s black print telling me of how one of his childhood friends had abused him when they were growing up. That look in his eyes, that vulnerability glowing through just now, it had been the same look that he’d greeted me with when I’d pushed him on the subject. Maybe that’s why I held him that bit tighter, because underneath the stony exterior he seemed to show everyone else was this scared kid who I just wanted to heal.

  
  


“I’m glad you came over,” I sighed.

  
  


“Yeah? Why’s that?”

  
  


“Because I was just about to screw Rob into the mattress, so you saved me making a really fucking stupid mistake.”

  
  


Mike grinned back at me and whacked me playfully, our laughter echoing around the small room.

  
  


“And I thought I was the one who was meant to be into casual, meaningless sex,” he sighed and for a rare moment in life, I wasn’t sure if Mike were joking or if the cynic in him was reigning his speech.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


It was early morning when I woke up with a pain in my side and a stiff neck. There was a flicker of light creeping through the thin curtains beside me and a strong smell of weed filling my senses as I rubbed my eyes and sat up in the arm chair it appeared I’d fallen asleep in.

  
  


I wondered what the time was and where Mike was and if Rob was back yet but all my questions seemed to be answered at once as I sleepily stood up and saw that the light in the small bathroom was on. I walked over to the door, the smoky aroma and smell of weed getting stronger, the nearer I got.

  
  


“That you Mike?” I asked, stopping as I saw Rob was sprawled across the double bed at a haphazard angle. His coat was half off and he was only wearing one shoe. I chuckled and looked at the small digital clock that was seated on the nightstand beside the bed. It was just after four am.

  
  


“Mmm,” Mike’s reply finally came and a minute later, he stuck his head around the gap in the bathroom door with a hazy smile upon his face.

  
  


“Hey,” I smiled, “What are you doing up?”

  
  


He smiled coyly and I followed him inside the small bathroom, greeted by the strong aroma of weed and vodka that clung to the walls of the small room like smoke to the lungs.

  
  


“Ahh, getting out of it?” I asked, pushing the door shut behind me so as not to disturb Rob. Although, it seemed a large herd of elephants rampaging across the room would fail to wake Rob, the state he looked like he was in.

  
  


Mike slid down the wall and clumsily sat down on the tiled floor. A half full bottle of cheap vodka was stood beside an ashtray in front of where he sat and it looked pretty much like he was already half way to a drunken stupor. I sat down beside him and took the bottle, bringing it up to my dry lips and taking a swig of the warm liquid.

  
  


Since the Mike-Doing-A-Runner fiasco, which Rocky had so eloquently entitled it, our manager or glorified van driver as I’d recently seen him as, had decided that we all needed to lessen the intake of drugs and alcohol and focus more on our careers. Careers? I could have scoffed at the word when it had left his mouth.

  
  


It’s not like we were a bunch of junkie alcoholics or anything. We just enjoyed a little intoxicating stimulant after shows once in a while. And it hadn’t started after being on the road with influential people. We’d grown up in dark towns, places with little prospects and a reputation for social drinking and recreational drug use. It was kind of, part of life, no matter how much it was probably a little unsafe now and then. But Rocky had forbidden any alcohol or drugs on the RV for the foreseeable future and that’s why I was taking my fifth or sixth large swig from Mike’s bottle of vodka - because I hadn’t touched the stuff in a week. I shuddered and passed the bottle back to him. I was beginning to sound like an alcoholic now, wasn’t I?

  
  


Mike took the bottle and murmured something incoherent. I laughed at him but reacted quickly when the bottle slipped from his clutch. I managed to grab it before it dropped to the floor, but the most of it had poured over Mike who was now laughing hysterically.

  
  


“Jesus,” I grinned, placing the empty bottle a safe distance away from Mike, “It’s not that funny,” I told him, shakily getting to my feet and fast realising that had I bothered to look at the colour of the drink, I would have noticed it wasn’t just vodka that I’d been drinking.

  
  


I grabbed some paper towels out of the dispenser and passed them to Mike, but he was too busy laughing to notice them as they fell into his lap.

  
  


“Fuck,” I exclaimed, tasting the bitterness in my mouth, “What the fuck was mixed with that?” I asked Mike, crouching down in front of him and dabbing his soaked through shirt with the paper tissues.

  
  


“The funniest thing is, I don’t know!” he laughed, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, “No wait,” he paused as I collapsed down beside him, a wave of dizziness spinning through my head, “It was some pills. I think. I don’t know. They were round and pink. I think. Oh I don’t remember… It hardly matters. It‘s doing the trick, right?”

  
  


“What? Are you trying to kill us? You drop pills into drink and don’t even remember what they were…?”

  
  


“Mmm,” Mike answered, trying his hardest to keep a straight face.

  
  


I stared back at him as his face began to wobble and his eyes turned into small slits and before I knew it we were both rolling around the bathroom floor, pissing ourselves with laughter.

  
  


I don’t know how long it was before the bathroom door opened and Rob stood in the doorway in a half asleep state, eyeing Mike and I as we eventually calmed down but my sides were aching and I could barely breathe from all the laughing I’d been doing. The drummers hair was all dishevelled and he looked extremely pale as he lost his footing and stumbled over to the toilet.

  
  


“I’m gonna be sick,” he murmured before proceeding to throw up into the toilet basin.

  
  


“Do you guys know how much noise you’re making?”

  
  


The distinctive sound of a shell suit rustling and a familiar voice made me look up and through blurry vision I saw Joe standing in the doorway, a smirk on his face.

  
  


“You, erm,” he hiccupped and as I rubbed my eyes and his form became clearer, it appeared he was equally as drunk as Mike.

  
  


“You, erm, left the door unlocked,” he stopped motioning his hands behind him, “Anything could have happened.”

  
  


“Yeah, a couple of maniacs could have gotten in,” another voice sounded and as I managed to get to my feet, I saw it was Phoenix, waving a bottle of beer in his hand as he stood behind Joe with a great big, dopey smile upon his face.

  
  


“Ugh. I should lock it,” I nodded, not speaking into anyone in particular as I stumbled around in a circle before realising which way the bathroom door was.

  
  


“It’s alright.”

  
  


Another voice. I felt myself turning in a half circle, somewhat disorientated with all these bloody voices that kept appearing. Mike’s laugh is what caused me to stop spinning and I looked up to see Brad in the doorway. I couldn’t tell if he was drunk or not and I had to steady myself against the wall in order to concentrate on what he was saying.

  
  


“I said, I’ve locked it,” he almost shouted over the sound of Mike’s laughter and the retches coming from Rob as he emptied the contents of his stomach into the toilet.

  
  


“Oh,” came my reply and I watched as Joe produced a pack of beer from the bag I only just noticed he’d been holding. He passed Mike a bottle, took one for himself and broke off the top before swigging it down.

  
  


“This is the best night. Ever,” he declared, his drunken walk carrying him further into the small room, “Right Shinizzle?” he asked Mike as he sat down next to him with a thud and Phoenix followed, sitting down the other side of the bespectacled DJ.

  
  


“You know, I think we should maybe call it a night?” Brad’s stern voice spoke, “Rocky’s going to kill us if we walk onto the RV in three hours time and we’re still wasted.”

  
  


I rolled my eyes and sunk down against the tiled floor beside Mike who was staring against the opposite wall as he tipped his beer down his throat.

  
  


“Seriously, we’ve got an important show later on. We’ve got to get going in a few hours and we really can’t afford to screw things up.”

  
  


“We’ll just finish these beers off bro,” Phoenix said coolly.

  
  


“Okay, but I think I better take Mike back now. He looks pretty trashed,” he muttered the latter part as he walked inside and stopped in front of Mike.

  
  


Mike didn’t even look up, just kept his gaze set firmly on the wall facing us and I figured it must have been one hell of a fall out between them.

  
  


“He can stay here,” I nodded, taking several more swigs from Mike’s bottle, feeling slightly hazy as Brad’s head multiplied and danced around the warm room, “He’ll be okay in a while.”

  
  


“I think he better come with me,” Brad insisted, bending down a little and grabbing the bottle out of Mike’s clutch.

  
  


If I didn’t know any better I’d say Mike tensed up as soon as Brad had removed the bottle from his grasp but then again, as Brad leant down he seemed to have another six heads and his hair was now down to his waist, blonde streaks weaving through it as it swayed in the breeze… Wait a minute,  _what_  breeze?

  
  


“Come on Shinizzle, let’s get going,” Brad’s voice spoke as he grabbed Mike by the wrist and pulled him to his feet.

  
  


A flash of crimson and blue smudges swept through my eyes as Brad’s hand clutched onto Mike’s wrist but as quick as they had entered my mind, the vibrant colours were gone again, along with the pair of them. I heard a door slam in the distance and then my eyes quickly shut as I passed out in the bathroom along with three other members of a somewhat dishevelled rock band.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Rob and I never spoke about what happened between us again. I sometimes wonder where that moment came from, it was totally out of the blue. Or was it? I think I used to go around with my eyes closed in those days. I wish I’d taken things into thought, I wish I’d noticed more at the time.


	3. Come back to me come

“Thank you and goodnight!”

  
  


The cheers and enthusiastic vibes from the crowd made the fact that it was past midnight, my throat was royally fucked and I could hardly breathe all minor details because fuck it, we’d just played our last show before we planned on recording a demo tape and a feeling of accomplishment was already washing over me.

  
  


“Fuck. You going to stand there gawking at the crowd all night or are you actually going to move your skinny ass?”

  
  


I gave Brad the finger before setting down my microphone and jumping down off the back of the make shift stage that had been erected in the far corner of yet another run down club in yet another small run down town. Mike’s hometown in actual fact. It felt strange to be so close to home having spent the last couple of months on the road. I’d help clear the stage later, but right now I just needed some water and a towel to wipe away the tears of sweat that were running down my cheeks.

  
  


Following the badly lit corridor and the scent of weed, I managed to find myself in a small box room where Rocky was sat counting out money with the owner of the club and looking extremely unscrupulous whilst doing so. I wasn’t about to question him or his dealings though because the guy was going to be putting money towards our time in a recording studio and in turn I was going to be thankful for eternity.

  
  


“Good set you played there Chester,” he smiled, “Darren here’s from a local record label, he’d like to talk with you and the others when they get back.”

  
  


I suddenly found myself rooted to the spot, my eyes slowly scanning up and down the male body in front of me. Not only was Darren quite dishy looking, with tanned skin and emerald green eyes; he was also a fucking talent scout? I clamped my mouth shut and grabbed a bottle of water, quickly unscrewing it and downing half of it before I was able to move and speak almost coherently.

  
  


“Erm, hey, I’m Chester, nice to meet you,” I smiled, offering my hand.

  
  


He smiled back and shook it and I was glad for the loud thud behind me that turned out to be Rob, Brad, Phoenix and Joe all crashing into the small room at once.

  
  


“Thank fuck for that! That’s all I can say. I just want to go get in the van, get stoned and sleep until Christmas day, which given that it’s already fucking December does not really give me enough time to recover from the last few months. Someone shoot me already!”

  
  


I stared at Joe and was in no doubt that my expression mirrored that of Rocky’s. Put a sock in it already Joe!

  
  


“Where’s Mike?” Rocky asked, shuffling a bundle of notes into his back pocket.

  
  


“Well let’s see. He’s either screwing or getting screwed by someone! Take your pick!” Joe chuckled.

  
  


“I’ll go and find him,” I told everyone, brushing past Brad and making my way back down the corridor, my feet dodging broken amps, several sets of rusting step ladders and a door marked ‘the green room’ with a picture of Bob Marley

  
  


Unless put off my Joe’s ability to make our band sound like a bunch of drug and sex obsessed maniacs, we had to be having some good news dealt our way. Why else would an A&R guy want to talk to us? For fun? No way. I’d met plenty of record industry ‘people’ over the past year as our band had begged and pleaded with them for something;  _anything_ and fun was not in their vocabulary.

  
  


Jumping up onto the stage, my eyes scanned the small club; with his bright blue hair and deathly white complexion, Mike wasn’t exactly hard to find and I soon spotted him leaning against the bar with a bottle of bud light in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was staring into space as I jumped off the stage and jogged over to him, covering his eyes with my hands and causing him to jump a little.

  
  


“There’s only a fucking record label guy waiting to talk to us!” I gushed, grabbing Mike’s beer and taking a large swig from the bottle.

  
  


He looked at me with a dull expression before taking a drag from his cigarette.

  
  


“I sense an ‘and’ is about to leave your lips Mike so don’t you dare say it,” I paused, took another swig of beer, “Come on, we’ve been waiting for someone to come and talk to us rather than us begging to talk to them for  _how_  long now? You could at least smile?”

  
  


“Sorry,” Mike sighed and stubbed his cigarette out into the ashtray in front of him, “I’m just tired that’s all and I just want to go home, sleep for at least a week and then think about getting another dead end job that will maybe see me with enough money to live on over Christmas and possibly enough money for the recording sessions and I really…”

  
  


“Mike. Chill, okay?”

  
  


He smiled and took a deep breath, “Sorry,” He sighed, “I’m just pretty tired.”

  
  


“How come? Not sleeping again?”

  
  


“I didn’t really have a chance. I spent the whole of last night holding my mom’s hair out of the way as she threw up. She stumbled in some time after eleven with grazed knees and a bottle of vodka in her hands. She was absolutely out of it. Third time since we got home.”

  
  


“Shit Mike, why didn’t you call me?” I asked, settling myself down onto the barstool beside him.

  
  


“I didn’t think,” he sighed, “I couldn’t have bothered you at that time anyway…”

  
  


“You know that’s not true.”

  
  


He gave me a glum smile as he rested his head against my shoulder and I let a loud sigh escape through my lips. This situation was getting to me so I couldn’t even begin to imagine how hard it was for Mike.

  
  


“How is she now?”

  
  


“Who knows,” he shrugged, “When she’d finally stopped being sick, she fell asleep on the bathroom floor. She’d gone out by the time I got up this morning. I was even going to ask her to the gig tonight, I thought it might cheer her up to see us playing back here,” he sighed dejectedly, “I don’t know why I even thought she’d be bothered,” he paused, glancing around the bar, “I left her a note and two messages on the phone…”

  
  


“Hey,” I soothed, “She probably got sidetracked, you know how she is, she’s probably just sleeping or…”

  
  


“Getting drunk and high all over again?”

  
  


“Hey, I hate to break up this cosy little gossip up but we’re needed together, as a band. Pronto,” Brad’s deadpan voice came from behind me and I looked up to meet his glassy eyes and expectant expression.

  
  


“Yeah. We’re coming,” I told him, giving him the finger as he turned away, “Come on Mike, his Majesty hath called,” I smirked, relieved when Mike chuckled and got down from the bar stool, “We’ll talk later okay?”

  
  


It turned out that Darren had been tipped off by someone to come and watch our band play and as we stood around the cramped confines of the box room-come-dressing room, he told us that our sound was quirky, interesting and without doubt something that the record label he worked for would be interested in hearing. He gave us his card, told Rocky that he’d be in touch first thing in the morning and that he looked forward to seeing us soon. Darren had long gone and I was still in a state of awe when Phoenix nudged me in the back and asked if I was okay.

  
  


“Yeah… just a little… this is something good right? I mean we’ve never had this kind of interest before?”

  
  


Phi smiled his goofy grin at me and nodded his head enthusiastically, “Yeah, it sounds good to me… God this is pretty exciting isn’t it?”

  
  


“Just a little!” Rob gushed from where he’d sprawled himself out across a battered armchair which Joe leant against, tapping his fingers restlessly.

  
  


“Yeah, I think this calls for a celebratory drink, or three!”

  
  


“Or four even,” Rob mused, “Last one to the bar gets the first round in!”

  
  


I rolled my eyes, laughing as Joe and Rob scrambled out of the room and their footsteps thundered away as they made a bee line to the club. The rest of us knew them well enough to know they’d get tired of waiting and end up buying the first round themselves. We’d stay in the small room for a good ten minutes, knowing that by the time we decided to go and join them they’d probably be buying their second lot of drinks.

  
  


“So,” Brad sighed, his voice thick in the somewhat shell-shocked environment that was clinging around the four of us, “Does this make your mind up as to which band you want to stay with then Phoenix?”

  
  


I glared at Brad. As did Mike. As did Phoenix himself. It seemed that only Brad Delson could crush a good moment within nanoseconds of it occurring. I believe he probably prided himself on doing so.

  
  


Phoenix, who also played Bass in a band called The Snax, with some of his High School friends just stared back at Brad, until I cleared my throat and thought it best to intervene. I didn’t really fancy wiping blood off the walls, especially not Brad Delson’s.

  
  


“Let’s forget about that for now,” I said hurriedly, “I think it’ll be safe enough to join Rob and…”

  
  


“No,” Brad interrupted, his voice raising slightly, “I think it would be just grand if  _David_  here could tell us where, exactly, his loyalties lie…”

  
  


I sunk back against the wall, noting Mike’s eyes as they darted between Brad and Phoenix then down to Brad’s fists which were clenched by his sides. Phoenix was talking, his tone hushed but I could barely make out the words because my eyes were too busy watching Mike; a little unnerved by the way he was suddenly paling, gulping and then suddenly up on his feet and pushing past me just at the moment that Brad leaned forward and hissed at Phoenix in a somewhat threatening manner.

  
  


“So then?”

  
  


Mike was long gone, the sound of a door slamming his only remainder as I looked back to Brad and the ugly sneer that was present on his face. Phoenix stood up to him, arms crossed over his chest and as selfish as it sounds I suddenly felt the need to get out of there because I was more concerned with Mike than their petty, ongoing feud. It seemed like Brad spent every given opportunity to raise this subject, which was a shame really because when push came to shove, Phoenix and him really got on well, or as well as you can get on with Brad Delson.

  
  


Turning away, a punch was thrown and I half hoped that it came from Phi. I headed away from the stage this time, following the grimy corridor down to a steel door. Pushing the bar down, I found myself in a cold, dark parking lot. Crossing over gravel and crushed beer cans, I spotted Mike sitting against a wall with his knees drawn up to his chest.

  
  


“You okay?!” I asked, plonking myself down next to him.

  
  


He fiddled with his cuffs, “She’s getting worse Chester,” he sighed, gazing at me with his big brown eyes, “She’s getting worse and I can’t do a thing about it. Isn’t she the one who’s meant to be around for me? Isn’t she the one that’s supposed to bail me out of jail, or pick me up from some bar in the middle of nowhere because I’m stoned, drunk and completely delirious? It’s not meant to be the other way around is it?”

  
  


I sighed and slid my arm around Mike’s waist, glad that he was letting his tears run free rather than bottling them up inside his eyes like he so very often did. I shivered and dug around in my pocket with my free hand, quickly locating a battered carton of cigarettes. Lighting one up, I passed it to Mike, then lit up another, the flash from my purple lighter hissing and flickering in the dark night air. Placing my ciggies back into my pocket, I took a long drag and watched the smoke as it floated up around the pair of us.

  
  


Mike hadn’t really talked about the subject directly, but through another of his shakily penned letters, I’d learnt that his Mother had been diagnosed with schizophrenia when he was eight years old and had subsequently been in and out of various mental hospitals and clinics, even having a brief spell in a secure unit. No one knew the reasons for her condition, except his Mother and those that had worked closely with her over the years. When Mike was twelve her illness started to calm down, and after having spent most of his childhood living with his Grandmother, he’d finally been allowed to move back home with her. Three years later, she’d hit an all time low and after Mike’s Grandmother passed away, it seemed to put a bad spell on everything. She was sectioned and Mike was taken under the wings of Brad’s parents. Three years on, she was certified as being well enough to take care of herself once again and ever since I’d known her, she’d been pretty sane to me. Up until the end of last summer when she met a guy, and along came the drugs and drink and the endless cycle of depression. Her boyfriend didn’t stick around, she lost the only job she’d ever managed to hold down for longer than a couple of months and subsequently drink and drugs had replaced the void of empty days and lonely nights, and Mike, well he was just left to pick up all the pieces.

  
  


Maybe that was another reason I spent a lot of my time just longing to pick him up in my arms and place him down in a happier, carefree world. Only fairy tale dreams like that are just about the most impossible thing to achieve.

  
  


“You should have called,” I sighed, taking a drag from my cigarette, “You promised me, remember?” I asked.

  
  


“I know, and I will if I ever need to. Thank you,” he smiled softly, “I just thought that she was okay y’know? I mean the last time I was home she seemed alright, although it was when she got drunk and hit me and called me a slut then told me that she doesn’t need me to look after her, wasn’t it?” he said wryly.

  
  


“Yeah but like you said, she was drunk…”

  
  


“So why did I even agree to go out on the road with you guys? I should have stayed here and looked after her and…”

  
  


“No Mike. You can’t do it. Not on your own. That’s why you came, remember?”

  
  


“No, it’s because I’m selfish Chaz. Y’know, if I had one ounce of good inside me then I would have stayed put, but no, I had to listen to you and Phi and your wild stories of how much good it would do for me to get away…”

  
  


I sighed, chose not to answer because Mike was right about the part that it was Phi and I who’d decided maybe taking our band on the road for a while would help Mike, but as I sat next to him and tried to ignore the fact that my ass was turning numb, I couldn’t help but feel like we’d made a bad decision. It’s just that four months ago, getting Mike out of bed had been more than a challenge. His Mother had disappeared and he was spending his days working his fingers to the bone, getting stoned and falling deeper into desperation. The weekly gig we had at a local bar was just sounding worse and worse with Mike’s dull voice and lack of input. We thought a change of scene and a stab at some things better would help. Now I really felt like shit.

  
  


“I’m sorry. We were just trying to help.”

  
  


“I know,” he nodded, “Don’t apologise. I’m just being a total bitch for no reason. I’m glad we did this… one step closer to success, or something?” he smiled.

  
  


He stared at me before looking away, his eyes misting over as he gazed in the direction of our clapped out RV. I didn’t say anything for a while, thought it best to keep the still silence around us and frankly I wasn’t sure  _what_  to say. Sure, I knew Mike inside out, I knew when to push and talk to him or when to stop and let him breathe and now felt pretty much like one of the latter moments.

  
  


“It’ll get better,” I suddenly blurted out, relief washing over me when he turned to smile at me.

  
  


“Well it can’t get much worse really, can it?” he chuckled, nudging me before the door to the back of the club suddenly opened with a loud bang. We both looked in the direction of Phoenix who was storming over to the RV with a split lip and an obvious anger in his step. Mike got to his feet, ran his hand through my hair and muttered something about really needing a drink. He was gone through the door before I had chance to stop him, his tired footsteps fading far into the club.

  
  


Phoenix was struggling with the lock of the RV, his face a mixture of anger and desperation. I looked up to the sky and rolled my eyes. It was going to be a long night and I didn’t predict myself, or any of the others sleeping until the sun had risen.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Mike and Brad were arguing at the bar, Rob and Joe were too wasted to even notice that the way they were dancing with one another gave them a more then homoerotic appearance and Phoenix just sat beside me with a beer in one hand, a lit cigarette in the other and a swollen lower lip.

  
  


“So what happened?” I asked, half watching Brad as he hissed something at Mike, the bar tender glared in their direction and Mike gave him the finger once he’d turned away.

  
  


“What does it look like?” Phi retorted, “The asshole slapped me and buggered off before I had chance to pick myself up off the floor. Who does he think he is? It’s not  _his_  band. He’s not in charge. Who is he to tell me what to do?”

  
  


“Calm down, hey! I’m not in any way on Brad’s side…”

  
  


“Yeah,” Phoenix smiled, “I know. I just… I just wish he’d stop being so fucking controlling all the time. I mean it was a fair question when he asked me if I’ve made a decision about which band I want to be with for good, but he’s forever asking it and not in the nicest of ways. I mean, look at him now! Mike looks like the epitome of fed up and there Brad is, going on and on and on at the poor thing.”

  
  


I nodded my head, watching as Mike visibly sighed and Brad continued his verbal barrage about god-knows-what. All I knew is that the moment I’d dragged a very pissed off Phoenix from the RV into the bar, the first thing that I’d heard was Brad hissing the words ‘I hope you weren’t saying anything…’ cut short by his smug smirk as he realised I was standing behind him. Now, over an hour later I sat without having touched one ounce of alcohol and watched as the rest of my friends all seemed to be drowning themselves in all number of intoxicating substances. That’s probably why I promptly picked up a bottle of Smirnoff.

  
  


“So you didn’t even talk about it?” I asked Phoenix, fiddling with the straw in my glass of coke now with added Vodka and turning my head to face him.

  
  


“We didn’t get chance. I just said ‘not now’. He then called me cunt or a wanker, I’ve forgotten which.”

  
  


“Probably cunt,” I mused, oblivious to the wide eye look upon Phi’s face.

  
  


“Gee, thanks Chester!”

  
  


“Huh? What for?” I asked, glancing across to him, “Oh no, I didn’t mean you are one,” I chuckled, “It’s just a Brad word. So then he just hit you?”

  
  


“Hey, give me some credit here!” he laughed taking a swig of his beer, “I took a swing for him first…”

  
  


“Good,” I grinned, “Brad getting hit is a joy in itself. Brad getting hit by a poof such as yourself is just stellar!”

  
  


Phoenix mock glared at me before getting to his feet and digging his hand into the back pocket of his jeans.

  
  


“It’s a good job I love you so much,” he deadpanned, “Or I’d be kicking your ass as well. Same again?”

  
  


I nodded, “Sure you would,” I smirked as he headed over to the bar and in turn Mike hopped down from the barstool he’d been perched on and walked over in my direction.

  
  


“What’s wrong with him now?” I asked, referring to Brad as Mike sat down beside me in with a dull thud.

  
  


“Nothing,” he sighed, “Nothing of importance anyway.”

  
  


“Meaning?” I frowned, but Mike’s answer was halted when Brad plonked himself down across the table from us, slammed four bottles of beer down and shoved two of them in our direction.

  
  


I fiddled with the ice cold beer bottle and watched with worried eyes as Mike downed the contents of his, then moved onto mine, chugging the bitter liquid down his throat just as Phoenix returned with a tray crammed of cocktails.

  
  


“Special offer,” he explained before passing one Brad’s way and muttering something about a peace offering.

  
  


I wasn’t really listening, too busy chewing on the plastic straw in my drink and watching as Mike threw the cocktails down his neck as if they were water and then started on the Barcadi Breezers that a slightly intoxicated Joe had stumbled over with. Yeah, I sat back and  _watched_.

  
  


He could barely stand up as the bartender called for last orders and I found myself helping him out of the door and cursing at the others who’d buggered off and left me to tend to my best friend alone. Not that I blamed them. Joe and Rob were slaughtered, though not to the state Mike was in and Phoenix and Brad had disappeared a while ago to tidy our belongings into the RV which, as Mike and I reached the parking lot, appeared to have been driven off by one of them. Fucking great.

  
  


“Mike? Have you got your keys with you?” I asked as he leant his head against my shoulder and groaned something about not feeling very well.

  
  


I left out telling him that it was probably because he’d just gone on an all night bender and searched for his keys myself, hands finally wrapping around the cold metal and pulling them from his back pocket. Shoving them into my jeans, I wrapped my arm tighter around him, pulling him upright and grumbling to myself as I realised this was going to be one long walk home. The eerie sounds of trance and electronic beats pounded from the clubs on the main street, blue and neon flashing lights our only guide home as Mike stumbled and spluttered beside me.

  
  


It was around one am when we finally got to Mike’s apartment, a shady little two bedroom hole that he’d shared with his mom for the past year on the edge of town, housed on the fifteenth floor of tenement housing. Graffiti signs sprayed across it’s main entrance, the largest hung across the double doors with the scrawled words of  _concrete jungle_ , which it had been so aptly nicknamed. Mike was resting in my arms as we took the elevator to his floor and for once in my life I was glad that he weighed short of nothing. The trip down the long, dank corridor was a motion blur, one of me trying to keep Mike upright but in all honesty it didn’t take much effort, I had, after all done this many times. Hell, I could have done it with my eyes shut.

  
  


Shoving the key into the lock, I twisted it anti clockwise before pushing the flimsy plywood door open with my free arm. Turning the light on, I felt a twisting sensation in my stomach, guilt perhaps that I’d bought him back here. True, it was his home but looking around the small lobby with threadbare carpet and flickering lights made me wish I’d just taken him back to my place. Sure, it would have meant catching the night bus and attempting not to wake up my whole family in the process but the option of a soft bed and a warm shower would have been there.

  
  


Sighing, I let the door shut behind me and realised that Mike had passed out in my clutch and was fast becoming a very dead weight.

  
  


“Mike,” I murmured, shaking him lightly, “Mike wake up a minute will you?” I said a little louder.

  
  


This seemed to do the trick as he groaned a little and his eyes fluttered open once again, staring blankly at me when they’d focused on his surroundings.

  
  


“What? Where am… I think I’m going to be sick.”

  
  


Those famous last words tumbled from his mouth and in a matter of seconds I’d managed to successfully guide him into the small bathroom where he landed on his knees with a dull thud and proceeded to spew the contents of his stomach into the toilet basin. It wasn’t a pretty sight.

  
  


Kneeling down beside him, I ran my hand up and down his back, my mind wondering as my tired eyes focused on the ever growing spot of mould on the wall above the sink. I didn’t have enough fingers and toes to count the amount of times I’d been in this very position. What kind of friend was I though? Because this wasn’t right, this really was  _not_ right.

  
  


“Mike? You okay?” I asked as he finally stopped throwing up.

  
  


He shook his head then closed his eyes, resting his chin against the toilet seat. He was burning up, sweat pouring down his reddened cheeks. Sure, we’d been here before. Same cold, dark bathroom, same concrete floor below our sore knees but this time was worse, a whole lot worse than I’d ever known it. Mike was shaking, hands gripping onto the edge of the toilet for dear life. I got to my feet, grabbed a facecloth from the shelf above the sink, eyes fixated on the mould that was creeping down towards the taps as I immersed the cloth in cold water, quickly by Mike’s side again and pressing it against the back of his neck.

  
  


“You still feeling sick?”

  
  


He slowly nodded his head, scrunched his eyes open and closed before he threw up once again. I winced, watching the black liquid that swum around in the basin.

  
  


“Idiot,” I murmured.

  
  


“I know,” he whispered hoarsely before throwing up again.

  
  


I’m not sure how long it was before he stopped being sick and I was left leaning against the bathtub as he whimpered and cried softly to himself, my hand wrapped around his as I stared up to the ceiling in despair.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Black coffee with several spoonfuls of brown sugar is what I’d found was the perfect cure for any hangover. I sat at Mike’s kitchen table with a chipped pink mug and a bar of Hershey’s in front of me, half listening to the weather report on the portable radio whose cheerful tones told me that today was going to be hot and sunny. I glanced out of the grimy kitchen window that overlooked the city. Streams of rain slid down the windowpane, some meandering inside a crack in the dirty glass. It certainly didn’t look like sunshine to me.

  
  


Mike’s neighbours were having yet another argument, their screams and shouts violating my eardrums. I tried to make sense of the argument, figuring if I had to put up with it that I may as well know what the conflict was actually about, yet an hour had passed and I was still non the wiser. My eyes gazed out of the window again. I wondered if Rocky had received that important phone call yet. He had promised to get in touch with everyone as soon as he did yet my cell phone remained silent and after picking it up every five seconds to check for missed calls I remained disappointed. A heavy sigh escaped my lips and eyes still staring at the ugly weather outside, I couldn’t help but feel pessimistic.

  
  


This was it. Now I had to find a job to keep me going over the winter, save up all my wages and for what? To fund the sessions in some dust filled recording studio, to chip in for petrol and food as we’d be taking ourselves out in the van, driving through unknown towns and cities all over again… I’d wanted this all my life but lately I was wondering just how badly I really wanted it. Finally pulling my eyes away from the window I broke myself off a generous chunk of Hershey’s and popped into my mouth. My mom had once told me she was sure I’d meant to have been a girl. She said I always turned to chocolate when I was down and that was such a girl thing. I’d rolled my eyes at her, though she did have a point, as all Mothers, I guess.

  
  


I was half way through the bar and on my second cup of syrupy coffee when Mike’s bedroom door opened and he stumbled, ashen faced, down the hallway. I watched with a smirk as he stood in the doorway dressed in a grey hoody which was inside out and a pair of once white boxer shorts. His black hair stuck out in all directions and to put it quite bluntly, he looked like  _shit_.

  
  


“I feel terrible,” he attested, entering the kitchen and plonking himself down on the bench next to me.

  
  


“And you look it too,” I chuckled, reaching behind me for the coffee pot.

  
  


“Thanks,” he glared at me as I poured him a mug and passed it over.

  
  


“This will set you straight.”

  
  


“Fuck me over more like. What the fuck’s in this?”

  
  


“Nothing,” I smirked, watching as he took a mouthful and his eyes suddenly widened as the coffee slid down his throat, “Just some Columbian stuff I found in the cupboard. It was called Rocket Fuel, I think.”

  
  


“Fuck! That stuff gave me palpitations last time I drank it!” he paused and placed his mug down, “I think I’ll pass on that, unless it’s got amazing hangover cures within it?”

  
  


“Well it sure as hell woke me up!” I grinned, breaking off some more chocolate.

  
  


“God… I don’t even remember last night,” he sighed, shoving his mug across the table and placing his head against the pine surface, “I got really wasted, didn’t I?

  
  


“Hmm,” I nodded, swallowing my mouthful of chocolate, “You actually scared the crap out of me at one point. You do realise your vomit was black?” I shuddered.

  
  


His face paled, “Thanks for that. I’m still feeling a little tender here, so if you could lay off the visuals that’d be great.”

  
  


“Sorry,” I smiled, “You did scare me though Mike. I didn’t think you were going to stop throwing up. How much do you remember?”

  
  


“Absolutely nothing,” he murmured, looking up at me with hazy eyes.

  
  


“Well, what’s the  _last_  thing you remember?”

  
  


He scrunched his eyes up as he thought for a few seconds, “I remember talking to you outside. It was freezing cold, then Phi came out so I disappeared inside to leave you guys to it,” he paused, “Because Phi so wants you,” he smirked before becoming serious again, “I don’t know what went next…”

  
  


I rolled my eyes, ignoring his comment about Phoenix. Mike seemed to be adamant that my auburn haired best friend had a slight thing about me. Chance would be a fine thing.

  
  


“You were with Brad,” I continued, “When Phi, who so doesn’t want me for the record, and I came back you were arguing at the bar like a married couple.”

  
  


Mike, if possible, paled some more. I watched as he frowned, his fingers fiddling anxiously with yesterdays tabloid paper that was spread out across the table.

  
  


“What about?” he suddenly asked.

  
  


“I have no idea.”

  
  


“Me neither.”

  
  


“Whatever it was, it pissed you off and you spent the rest of the night throwing back just about everything you could get your hands on.”

  
  


Mike blushed, “That bad hey?”

  
  


“Well, I did have to practically carry you home…”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” he whispered into his hands which were now covering his face.

  
  


“It’s okay,” I smiled gently, “Just try not to make a habit out of this, okay?”

  
  


Mike slowly nodded his head, “And I’m sorry about my outburst last night. I didn’t mean what I said. I’m really grateful that we went out on this tour. Who knows, maybe this talent scout is the real deal? Maybe one day we’ll make it out of this hell for good?”

  
  


My eyes couldn’t help but follow his as he paused and they gazed around the room in what could only be described as utter despair. And I couldn’t really help but echo that sentiment because what kind of life was this anyway? A coffee maker and a toaster for a kitchen. An old pub picnic bench for a table. Browning Sellotape to hold broken windows together. Pots in the sink with no cupboards to live in and behind the wooden sliding door in the far corner, his Mother’s room; a paradise for any drug user with it’s bent teaspoons, rusted weighing scales and dusty surfaces screaming out from behind the half shut door.

  
  


“Come and stay with me for a while Mike,” I sighed, not sure where the words had come from, “Just think of it as a break…”

  
  


“I can’t Chester,” he smiled sadly, “I’d love to but I can’t leave her again…”

  
  


“I can’t leave you here either,” I heard my voice whispering sadly into the cold air.

  
  


“Chester…”

  
  


“Please? Look, you could call in on her everyday make sure she’s…”

  
  


“Morning kids.”

  
  


There was a thump and I looked up to see Mike’s mom stumbling through the partition door. She fleetingly reminded me of a character from a Tim Burton film but as quick as that thought came, it vanished with the appearance of a middle aged guy wearing nothing but a pair of faded boxer shorts. He stumbled into the kitchen with as much elegance as a bull in a china shop and proceeded to make himself at home, sitting down on top of an upturned tea-chest and lighting up a cigarette.

  
  


“This is Chuck,” Mike’s Mother beamed, “He’s going to be staying with us for a while, aren’t you Chuck? Pass me the coffee jug will you sweetie?”

  
  


Mike got up and squeezed behind me to get to the counter and I tried to ignore the way Chuck was eyeing him up like a joint of meat in a butcher’s window. The thought of it just made me cringe. I wrapped my arms around my torso, growing more aware that I was half naked by the second as Chuck’s gazed turned to me and he blew a long line of smoke from between his lips, his tongue darting out flittingly as Mike leant across me and placed the coffee jug down.

  
  


“Thanks sweetie. Now if you’re going out today you couldn’t make a detour for your old Mom, could you?”

  
  


“Sure,” Mike sighed.

  
  


“Thanks, I just need a few groceries and don’t worry about Mr. Kindell, tell him to put it on my tab…”

  
  


“Mom,” Mike groaned, “Mr. Kindell won’t let me add to your tab. When was the last time you paid him?”

  
  


“Aww what’s a girl to do to get some food around here? Chuck, lend the poor mite a few dollars will you?”

  
  


Chuck nodded and leant down to reach into his right sock from where he pulled a few rolled up notes and passed them over to Mike.

  
  


“Yer can get me some there fine beers with that too,” he drawled, cigarette lodged between his teeth as he spoke.

  
  


“Come on Chaz,” Mike sighed and I all too willingly followed him out into the hall, almost tripping over a pile of unpaid bills that lay in despair on the wooden floorboards.

  
  


“Jesus  _Christ_ ,” he hissed as we stepped inside his bedroom and the door shut firmly behind him, “Where does she find them?”

  
  


“I think it’s best if I refrain from answering that,” I sighed, pulling yesterdays T-shirt over my head and straightening it out as best as I could. It stank of beer and a hint of vomit but it was better than having some ex-cowboy ogling me.

  
  


Mike flopped down on his bed and once I’d pulled on my jeans and stolen one of his hoodies to wear, I joined him, my head hitting his soft pillow as I lay beside him.

  
  


“Sure I can’t tempt you?”

  
  


He raised his eyebrows, “Are you propositioning me or is this another attempt to get me to come and stay with you?”

  
  


“Don’t flatter yourself,” I sniggered, “Think about it?”

  
  


“I don’t know…”

  
  


“Please? Look, the guy I usually work for will hire you too, he’s always recruiting around Christmas. We can save up some money, get the demo together in the new year and…”

  
  


“Chester I just don’t want to leave her again. I’m scared.”

  
  


“I know you are. The same way I’m scared of leaving you here. But she’s got Chuck, for now and…”

  
  


“How long is it before the shine wears off and he starts using her as a punch bag?”

  
  


“And you…”

  
  


“That’s only ever happened the once.”

  
  


“Still, it happened.”

  
  


“Chester I can come by and see you every day.”

  
  


“It’s a two hour drive.”

  
  


“So it’s okay for me to take that journey back here to make sure my mom’s still alive?”

  
  


I pulled the pillow over my head.

  
  


“I know you’re right. Okay? And I want to come and live with you, start afresh and be nearer the others so we can rehearse more often and maybe make something of ourselves. I’m just so scared. Can you not understand that?”

  
  


“I do,” I mumbled from under the pillow.

  
  


“But?” he asked, tugging my barrier away.

  
  


Reluctantly, I faced him, letting out a loud sigh before I let the words pour from my lips.

  
  


“She’s an adult Mike. No matter what illnesses she has, she is still an adult and she knows that whatever decisions she makes, the consequences are down to her and  _not_  you. So if she fucks up and goes on a three day bender it is not your fault. If she chooses not to fight back against these poor excuses for men that she picks up then that is not your fault either. You’ve got to get out of here Mike. For your own good because so help you, you’re going to end up just like her.”

  
  


The pillow he’d been holding slipped from his grasp and fell silently to the floor. Mike’s face paled and I knew that my words had gone a little too far.

  
  


“I know,” he whispered, “You’re right.”

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  


I should have taken him from that hellhole right there and then. I should have grabbed him, slung him over my shoulder, kicking and screaming for all I care now. Then I should’ve gotten us onto the first bus we saw and driven the hell away from everyone; his mother, my family, the whole fucking band. Shame I didn’t have the ability to look into the future.


	4. back to me

**(march 2000)**

  
  
  


I stood in front of the shattered mirror, trying to make sense of my somewhat distorted reflection as I attempted to apply some of Mike’s ‘Heavily Mental’ black eyeliner to the lower rims of my eyes. I blinked as I finished the two  _almost_  neat, thick lines and stepped back from the mirror to straighten out the black shirt and pants I was wearing.

  
  


“Wow, someone looks mighty sexy.”

  
  


I spun around, a blush creeping into my cheeks as I saw Phoenix leaning against the doorway to the toilet stalls I was in. A smirk was plastered across his face and he smiled back at me as he stepped inside the dank room.

  
  


“You okay?” he asked me as I turned back to the mirror and fiddled with the sleeves of my shirt. I rolled them up, then pulled them back down again and was just about to ask Phoenix which looked best when he placed a hand upon my back.

  
  


“Nervous?”

  
  


“Is it that obvious?” I asked, my tongue flicking over the silver ring that looped itself through my lower lip.

  
  


“Just a little. But, y’know it’s okay. I’m just about shitting myself here, Joe’s gone into a state of silence, Rob’s pacing the corridors, Brad’s making jokes and Mike’s… actually he’s the only one being normal. Just his moody self and staring holes into the walls!”

  
  


I chuckled and turned to face the bass player.

  
  


“What do you think our chances are?”

  
  


“Honestly?”

  
  


I nodded my head.

  
  


“Without wanting to sound big headed or too confident, I’d say we’ve got pretty good chances. I mean, we’re one step up, we have our publishing deal. These guys seem pretty interested in signing us.”

  
  


I gulped, the words alone sending shivers down my spine. I couldn’t quite believe it. It was my twenty second birthday and we had just played a set for a major record label that were interested in signing us? I needed to keep pinching myself, only every time I did, it made no difference for I was still in the building that housed the head quarters of the record label and I was still pissing myself.

  
  


“Come on, lets get back to the others. Gut feeling here, but I think it’d do us good to all be together.”

  
  


“Sure,” I nodded my head and followed Phoenix out of the dank bathrooms and down the dark corridor that led to the room the rest of our band mates were anxiously waiting inside.

  
  


Collectively, we looked like we were attending a funeral. I flopped down on the couch beside Mike and glanced around with a small smile gracing my lips. Brad sat cross legged on the floor beside the door, fidgeting nervously with a small pile of plectrums. He wore a plain black shirt, similar to mine and a pair of dark blue jeans. His arms were adorned with a neat collection of black rubber bands and his comedy hair had all been cut off, now shaven close to his head. A few steps away sat Rob who at first glance looked a spitting image of Brad. Only when you looked again did the differences show. His hair was slightly shorter, a neat goatee was growing from his chin and although younger, he was marginally taller out of the two. On a coffee table in the centre of the room sat Joe, his head in a magazine which I didn’t have the heart to tell him boasted articles on the front cover about penis enlargements and gender swapping operations. He seemed to be relaxed, in his own little world as he tapped his sneaker clad foot against the floor. His track suit had gone weeks ago after the rest of us had taken part in a ceremonial burning of it. He wore black pants and a blue shirt that had the words ‘I’ve lost my cherry, can I have yours?’ loudly splashed across it. Mike was fidgeting beside me with a look of nervousness in his ebony eyes. They were heavily decorated with black eyeliner and tiny bits of blue moon glitter that danced about every time he blinked. I couldn’t help but smile at him as he jiggled his leg up and down and chewed on his blue painted nails. He looked round at me and sighed, his fingers gone from his mouth as he smoothed his hands down over his dark shirt.

  
  


“How much longer do you think we’re going to have to wait?” he asked.

  
  


Everyone seemed to breathe a collective sigh of relief as Mike spoke. It wasn’t just the fact that someone had finally broken the nervous state of silence that had engulfed the small room, but more so that it was Mike who had been the one to speak.

  
  


The past few months had been a strange ride of a roller coaster. We’d taken a short break at Christmas, all residing to our homes and crumby jobs for the festive season. By January we’d barely seen one another and at the end of the month we’d gotten together again to rehearse for a string of gigs that Rocky had found for us. Things had been strained to say the least. Phoenix had been going back and forth between us and his other band, leaving the rest of us to wonder if we had a permanent bass player or not. Rob had spent most of the Christmas period in a drunken stupor and was trying to sober himself up. Brad had somewhat mellowed out and I still hadn’t decided if that were a good thing, or a bad thing. I’d spent the break working my ass off in a greasy diner and trying to keep out of my families way as my younger sister had just dropped a bombshell; she was pregnant and she was also just fourteen years old. And as for Mike, he’d not really been himself since the night the night I spent rubbing his back as he vomited a cocktail of Alco Pops and beer in his bathroom.

  
  


He’d been distant. He’d suddenly banished any talk about his Mother. He’d pushed me away when I’d asked him if he wanted to talk, he’d tensed up when I’d tried to give him a cuddle or a shoulder to cry on. Rather than lose my rag I’d decided to give him some space and reminded him on several occasions that I was there whenever he needed to talk. I was still waiting though and as we all sat around without an answer to Mike’s question I couldn’t help but think things over and ask if the outcome of today would make or break us.

  
  


In fact, it wasn’t long until the door opened and Rocky walked in, followed by two suited men and a woman. I tried my best to get a look at Rocky’s face but his expression was giving nothing whatsoever away.

  
  


“Well, we won’t keep you waiting any longer,” one of the men, who I vaguely remembered introducing himself as Will, spoke, fiddling with a clipboard under his arm, “Anyone got a pen?” he asked.

  
  


We all stared back at him with blank expressions etched upon our faces.

  
  


“Contracts!” he exclaimed, “Things to sign!”

  
  


The six of us sat in silence, still staring blankly at him.

  
  


“We want to sign you up!”

  
  


I stared at him. At the floor. Back at him. At his smart black shoes which I absently wondered; were they leather or manmade? And he said he wanted to sign us up? A small squeak left my mouth and everyone seemed to simultaneously look my way.

  
  


“We’re signed?”

  
  


Nine faces smiled back at me and nodded their heads and as the penny dropped a huge grin seemed to stretch across my face.

  
  


“Oh my God!” I squeaked, getting to my feet, “I freaking love you!” I exclaimed and before I realised I was running over to a surprised looking Will and enveloping him in a rather giddy bear hug.

  
  


He looked somewhat flustered as I pulled away and turned to my band mates who were hugging one another, awash with looks of glee and amazement. I danced over to them, hugging them each in turn as an explosion of happiness erupted deep inside of me. Hell, I was that happy that I even gave Brad a huge, suffocating bear hug.

  
  


Mike was the last person I hugged and as we wrapped our arms around one another, somewhere deep inside a part of me didn’t want to let go.

  
  


“We’ve done it baby boy,” I whispered, “We’ve fucking done it!”

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  


I was cold, tired and hungry. I wanted nothing more than to jump into a hot bath then wrap up in my warm fleece pyjamas and fall asleep. Only it was my birthday and the others were having none of it. That’s why I was sitting in the back of the RV and Brad was driving us down the highway at breakneck speeds. If we made it without getting pulled over, we were heading to some bar in town where the drinks were cheap and no one seemed to mind if you just wanted to sit in a corner and get out of your heads.

  
  


I was wedged between Rob and a guitar case and Mike, who along with Phoenix was already half drunk, sat on my lap fidgeting about as he tried to roll a joint. Whilst sat on my lap, I repeat. Whilst also rocking about as Brad hurtled down the road. I watched him in amusement for a few minutes before he gave up and clumsily put the lid back on his tobacco tin with a sigh.

  
  


“Are we supposed to feel any different?” he asked, a smile spreading across his face.

  
  


“About what?”

  
  


“Y’know, about being signed… We’re no longer the band that’s constantly rejected. We actually got signed, I mean,” he paused and frowned, “I don’t know what I mean,” he sighed, hiccupping and shifting about in my lap before he went silent.

  
  


I glanced across at Rob who just raised his eyebrows and mouthed ‘he’s wasted already?’ to which I nodded and smiled a little, turning back to Mike as he slumped against me and buried his head into the crook of my neck.

  
  


“Maybe I should just take him back to his apartment and…”

  
  


“No way,” Rob interrupted, “You’re not getting out of this one! I mean, come on it’s a double celebration tonight! You can’t bail out on us, I mean, you’re normally the one drinking everyone else under the table…”

  
  


“That’s because I’m the only one who can handle his drink”

  
  


Rob raised an eyebrow, “Yeah? Really? What about that time in the motel then? If I remember the story right, you were drunk after a few mouthfuls of vodka…”

  
  


“It wasn’t straight though! Michael here put a handful of whatever he’d scored into it!”

  
  


Rob smiled, “You’re such an easy thing to wind up at times but you’re not getting out of it.”

  
  


“Okay,” I sighed with a slight smile, although why I was smiling was beyond me. I had bad feelings about the rest of the night.

  
  


Defeated though, I pushed my thoughts to the back of my mind as we continued the rest of the journey in silence, give or take the odd swear word from Phi every time we went over a bump as he drunkenly lay on the floor.

  
  


It wasn’t long before Brad was screeching the brakes as the van jerked into the parking lot behind the bar. We always left the van here overnight when we went to the bar. It wasn’t exactly a good place to leave it but so far no one had seemed bothered about attempting to break into the piece of shit and drive it away.

  
  


Mike groaned and looked at me with a bemused expression on his face.

  
  


“Do we get more money to spend on booze now?” he asked, beaming as he got up from my lap and pulled me to my feet.

  
  


“Fortunately for you, no,” I replied chuckling as we followed the others outside.

  
  


It was quite busy in the bar and past the tables and booths a small crowd of people had gathered who stood watching the band that were playing in the far corner. I found myself being dragged into one of the booths and wedged in the corner. Mike sat one side, Rob the other and I had a feeling it was their way of making sure I didn’t try to escape. Phoenix somewhat stumbled and sat down beside Mike, leaving Joe and Brad to get the drinks.

  
  


“Okay so I don’t know about you guys but I am pretty fucking excited about all of this,” Rob grinned.

  
  


“Me too,” I nodded enthusiastically, “I think I can say the same for you two as well, right?” I asked Mike and Phi who both sat beside me with dorky smiles plastered across their faces.

  
  


“Yeah,” Phi nodded, “This almost rates as high as the night I had a threesome with my mom’s friends.”

  
  


“Okay,” Rob smirked, glancing at me, “That’s a little too much information.”

  
  


“Yeah but older women,” Phi winked, “There’s something about them. And men,” he snickered.

  
  


Rob made a disgusted looking face.

  
  


“It’s true, well, it’s certainly true about men,” I smirked, nudging Mike.

  
  


“Ugh trust you to lower the tone!” Rob joked, moving aside as Brad and Joe reached the table with a tray full of drinks.

  
  


“What about you Brad?” Mike piped up from beside me.

  
  


“Hmm? What?” he asked, sitting down as Joe passed out the drinks.

  
  


“Older or younger, what do you prefer?”

  
  


“Older or younger what?” Brad asked, a bemused look growing across his features.

  
  


“Women,” Rob smiled.

  
  


“Or men,” Mike added with a smirk on his face.

  
  


I began to giggle with him, almost snorting as Brad shot the pair of us, especially Mike, a death glare. Brad Delson had to be one of the most homophobic people I knew. He’d never be violent toward homosexual people, nothing like that. He was just one of those people who upon hearing the phrase ‘anal sex’ would visibly cringe, screw his face up and shriek about it being so completely disgusting and wrong. For the most part he kept his narrow opinions to himself which was one thing I actually liked about him.

  
  


“I’d say older,” Brad finally answered as Joe sat down and proceeded to nod in agreement.

  
  


“You sure Brad?” Mike asked again, that mischievous glint in his eyes that often came out when he was drunk. Or high. Or both.

  
  


“Sure about what?”

  
  


I took a sip of my manly drink of gin and tonic and watched with a smile on my face as Mike continued to wind our guitar playing friend up.

  
  


“Women. Older ones at that. I mean what about men?” he asked raising his eyebrows, “Don’t you ever fancy a little fumble with some innocent man that you could do all sorts to?!”

  
  


I almost choked on my drink and looked around the table to see Phi, Rob and Joe doubled up in laughter, and Brad with the most outraged look on his face which only led me to snort and burst out into hysterics.

  
  


“Come on,” Mike grinned, pausing to take a swig from his bottle of Smirnoff Ice, “Don’t tell me it’s never crossed your mind.”

  
  


Brad was bright red now, blushing as our laughter calmed down and the five of us smiled back at him. Winding him up was so easy and I realised I should tell Rob that Brad here, was way easier to wind up than me.

  
  


“Anyway what we were originally talking about was how exciting all of this is…”

  
  


“What, fucking guys?” Mike smirked.

  
  


“No,” Rob rolled his eyes, “I was going to say we were saying that finally getting signed, it’s so weird, don’t you think?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Joe nodded, “It’s just a little surreal.”

  
  


“Excuse me a second,” Mike spoke, placing his empty bottle down on the table, “Just going to use the bathroom.

  
  


He smirked in Brad’s direction as he squeezed past an equally amused Joe and Phi and got lost in the crowds as he headed to the toilets.

  
  


Rob carried on his attempts to change the subject and I sat back, letting the guitar riffs and beats from the band playing in the corner of the bar drown out his voice. My head bopped a little and I found myself tapping my foot to the beat, humming along a little at the familiar tune. Finishing my drink, I soon found another one swiftly replacing it and let my thoughts drift away as I listened to the music and watched the conversation going on around me. Brad still looked sorely pissed off but the others had long changed the subject and from what I could tell, they were now discussing blow up dolls.

  
  


Glancing at the clock, I realised Mike had been gone for a good fifteen minutes. Ever since an incident a few months ago when I’d gone to the toilet and gotten groped by some old pervert, Mike and I had made this ten minute rule. It was self explanatory really. If neither of us returned from the bathrooms within ten minutes, we’d go check. It was Mike’s idea. He’d come to see if I was okay just as old pervert guy had been forcing my hand down his pants.

  
  


I shuddered, downed the last of my drink and slammed the glass down onto the table.

  
  


“Just going to the bathroom,” I spoke, vaguely hearing Joe say he would get another round in before I came back as I squeezed past Dave and headed across the dance floor.

  
  


More people had gathered. A sweaty mass of bodies were now at the front of the stage, swaying and singing along to the soulful melodies the band were creating. Finally reaching the other side of the bar, I pushed open the black door before me and stepped into a badly lit corridor. The pink door on the right indicated the ladies toilets, the baby blue door on my left the gents and the orange door in front of me was salubriously known as the crack hole. Basically it was the door you could step through for a hit if the toilets were too busy, or a quiet grope with whoever you’d picked up. Mike was either behind the blue or orange door. Unless he’d suddenly turned straight and was perving in the ladies bathrooms, but I seriously doubted it.

  
  


I stepped through the door in front of me and sure enough, through the dusky lighting and cigarette smoke, Mike was sat in the far corner of the crack hole, amidst a pile of purple coloured cushions with his tongue shoved down some green haired guy’s throat. I watched in amusement for a few minutes as they groped one another in their dark surroundings and green haired guy not so discreetly shoved something in Mike’s pocket. Leaning against the wall, I watched as the stranger got up, fastened his pants and leant down to peck Mike on the cheek before he turned and stumbled past me to the door.

  
  


Mike smiled sheepishly as he spotted me, doing up his pants before he got to his feet and walked over to me, a little more sober than he had been not so long ago.

  
  


“How long have you been there?” he asked me with a bashful smile as he opened the door.

 

“Too long,” I replied, following him into the bathrooms, “I hope that was just weed that you got him off for,” I warned, letting the door shut behind me and blinking a little as my eyes adjusted to the bright strip lights above me.

  
  


“Hmm, but you wouldn’t kill me if it wasn’t would you?” he grinned, before turning into one of the stalls and shutting the door behind him.

  
  


I sighed and stepped over to the row of sinks, turning on the cold tap and splashing a little of the water over my face. Turning the faucet off, I looked back at my grainy reflection, running a hand through my black hair and tutting in distaste at my reflection. I was getting old but the most of me still looked like I was sixteen. I wondered when I was ever going to look my age and stop getting hassled for I.D in bars. Probably never.

  
  


Turning around and avoiding my reflection, I hoisted myself up onto the counter beside the sink, reaching into my back pocket for a cigarette before I leant my head against the cold mirror behind me and waited for Mike. I could hear him shuffling about, sniffing and coughing as I lit up my smoke and took a long drag from it. He was bleary eyed by the time he came out of the stall and I watched him wearily, flicking ash into the cracked sink beside me as he staggered over in my direction.

  
  


“Hmphiloveyou,” was all that came out of his lips as he stopped in front of me and wrapped his arms around my waist, instantly burying his head against my stomach. I smiled and slid my arms around his back, looking down at him as he continued to mumble incoherencies toward me.

  
  


“That was coke, wasn’t it?” I asked, not sounding too surprised as he slowly raised his head and nodded sheepishly.

  
  


A sigh is all that escaped my lips and I took a long drag from my cigarette, blowing out a cloud of grey smoke that slowly drifted upwards toward the flickering light above me. Mike stayed with his head buried against me, barely moving with his eyes shut tight and I had to wonder just why the hell cocktails of drink and drug had recently started to become his closest thing to happiness. I was a lousy friend and I needed to talk him out of this lifestyle before it became the only way he knew to live.

  
  


Finishing my cigarette, I dropped the butt into the waste paper basket beside me and gently patted Mike’s back. He raised his head and smiled as he backed away and rubbed his eyes with the back of his hands.

  
  


“Head rush,” he explained as I got down from the counter and straightened out my clothes.

  
  


“That’s normally what you get when you get raging drunk and snort a line of cocaine,” I told him bluntly.

  
  


“I’m fine now,” he smiled, sniffing and dragging a hand through his black hair, “Come on, lets go and dance,” he grinned, grabbing me by the wrist.

  
  


There wasn’t time to protest and before I knew it, my very high, slightly tipsy best friend was pulling me back out into the bar and we were in the middle of the dance floor, twisting and turning to the sounds of band as they were blasted out from the speakers. The sounds being that of Kool G and the Gang. Not a good visual at all.

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  


“You’re drunk.”

  
  


“Yes. I know.”

  
  


“You’re also stoned.”

  
  


“Well done Einstein.”

  
  


“You’re also behaving like an utter prick. I think one of us should take you home.”

  
  


“Well you can shove that idea right up your…”

  
  


“Mike,” I cut in, “Brad’s right. Maybe one of us should take you home and…”

  
  


Mike stared back at me with a smirk upon his face. He never usually got bitchy with me when he was drunk, but I was starting to see that this time he was definitely about to. After wearing me out on the dance floor, he’d proceeded to drink another four beers and now as we sat around the small booth he was most certainly the worst for wear. He could barely sit up, yet he’d not lost his ability to argue the toss with Brad.

  
  


“Come on,” Brad sighed as Rob and Joe came over with yet more drinks.

  
  


Dave had passed out long before Mike and I had returned, he wouldn’t be a problem though. Mike on the other hand was notorious for his binge drinking to be followed by activities such as lying down in the middle of roads and declaring his undying love for Nas, going into the twenty four hour store and knocking the porn stands over or refusing to leave the bar until the bartender had called the Police…

  
  


“Come on, I’ll walk you home, okay? I’m getting kind of tired as it is and…”

  
  


“No way,” Rob interjected me, “You pussy. It is your birthday and therefore you shall drink your way under the table with us. I’ll walk him home, take him back to my place because it’s nearest. Then I shall return and make sure the birthday boy consumes vast amounts of alcohol, okay?”

  
  


I started to laugh but was cut short by Mike as he got to his feet, stumbled a little and managed to knock his bottle over.

  
  


“Ahh shit!” he exclaimed, “I’m… I don‘t need anyone to walk me, okay? I’m not a fucking dog, or a child,” he shot Brad a glare, “If you want me to leave, then that‘s fucking fine. I‘ll get out of all your faces...”

  
  


“Mike, that’s not what we meant idiot,” I laughed, my smile soon disappearing as he pushed past Phi’s half cut body and stormed in the direction of the door.

  
  


“I better go after him,” I sighed, getting to my feet.

  
  


“No, I’ll go,” Brad told me.

  
  


“Here, take my keys. Get him back to my place once he’s calmed down,” Rob smiled, digging in his pocket. He passed the set of keys to Brad who took them before swiftly heading in the direction that Mike had pissed off in.

  
  


“Well, drink up Chester,” Joe winked at me, sliding a glass of what looked like Jack Daniels and Coke across the table.

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  


It was dark outside, dark and bitterly cold. I was trying to get the key into the front door of Rob’s apartment but failing miserably due to the fact that Rob and Joe were in hysterics on the floor and Brad was trying to stand up whilst holding Phoenix who was murmuring something about Luke Skywalker. I’d had more enjoyable birthdays, but perhaps not as entertaining.

  
  


Finally the door in front of me sprung open and I flicked the hallway light on, moving aside as Brad and Phoenix stumbled past me and into the living room.

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


The small thud that followed me calling his name led me to believe he was in Rob’s bathroom.

  
  


“Ssh,” Rob giggled, “You’ll wake the hens up.”

  
  


“Hens?” Joe asked, “I thought you had chickens.”

  
  


“I have those too. In the freezer.”

  
  


“Wait, what’s the difference?”

  
  


The pair of them burst out laughing as we stepped into the hallway. I thanked God that I hadn’t drunk as much as usual and was able to negotiate the light as we entered the small apartment and the door swiftly slammed shut behind us.

  
  


“You guys should sit down,” I told them, motioning them into the living room, “I’m going to see if Mike’s okay.”

  
  


“Where’s Brad?”

  
  


“He’s in here remember? He’s passed out with Phoenix.”

  
  


“How did we get here?” Joe asked, “How did we get  _here_?”

  
  


I rolled my eyes but found a small smile spreading across my face. Part of me wished I was rat arsed like they all were because that way I could just lie down on the floor and not have to be responsible but the fact is I wasn’t drunk, not in the least and that’s why I was going to check on Mike. Sure, it wasn’t out of character for him to go off on one, but very much so for him to yell at someone who had offered to walk him home. No wonder Brad had proceeded to drink his way under the table when he got back. He’d returned telling us that he’d taken Mike back to Rob’s and he was fast asleep in the lounge, but his absence from the room made me conclude that he was probably heaving the contents of his stomach up into the toilet.

  
  


Making sure that Joe wasn’t about to fall from the arm of the couch, I turned away from the giggling mess of the both of them and headed back down the hallway, stopping at the bathroom.

  
  


“Mike? Are you decent in there?” I called, rapping my hand against the wooden door.

  
  


Getting no response, I turned the handle, pleased that he’d not locked the door behind him. The light in the room was on, a pallid yellow shining down from the ceiling as I stepped inside, a high pitched gasp escaping my lips as I saw Mike.

  
  


A crumpled heap on the floor.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Maybe I should have figured it out at the time. No, not maybe, I should have seen it; I should have opened my eyes and realised. But that’s the worst thing about life, sometimes you can’t see something, even if you are staring it right in the face. Life’s a fucking bitch for doing that to you.


	5. to me

He was fast asleep, buried securely beneath my old Winnie The Pooh bed sheets. Beside him sat my younger brother’s stuffed bear, Hendrix, keeping a watchful eye over my best friends sleeping form. I rubbed my hand across his, letting a sigh escape my lips as he shifted and murmured broken sentences in his sleep. Stitches ran above his right eye, stopping where the deep cut ended and the dark black bruise which smeared down the side of his face began.

  
  


“You idiot Mike,” I whispered, rubbing his hand some more, not sure if it were to comfort him or me.

  
  


The sound of the ambulance and raised voices of the paramedics that had burst into Rob’s house had soon woken and somewhat sobered up the others. Their eyes had widened and questions had ran from their mouths when they’d seen Mike and all I could tell them was that I’d found him like this: unconscious, a bloody mess on the bathroom floor. I’d been bundled up into the ambulance, the others following behind in a taxi. I’d been left crying and alone in the waiting room until they had arrived and Phoenix had held me as we waited for news, any news whatsoever.

  
  


And now two days later, here he was, fast asleep in my bed with skin almost as pale as mine. My room was lit only by the lamp on my desk and I could hear the soft sounds of the TV coming from the lounge down the hallway. It was almost nine pm which usually meant at least five more hours were left until I went to bed but I felt drained beyond belief and wanted nothing more than to get some much needed sleep.

  
  


Suspected overdose, the doctors had told us. I hadn’t yet figured out how they differentiated between ‘suspected’ and ‘actual’ overdose. To me it didn’t seem like there could be a difference. He’d either overdosed or he hadn’t. Simple as. Whether it was accidental or deliberate I still didn’t know, I couldn’t even begin to guess; Mike had plenty of reasons to want to kill himself yet I didn’t believe that he’d ever try it.

  
  


Or maybe I just didn’t  _want_  to believe that. He had, after all, tried it before and if I were to disturb him from his deep sleep by turning his arms over I would be revealing a thick, white scar that ran diagonally across the inside of his left wrist; a wound he’d inflicted on himself at just twelve years of age.

  
  


A mixture of Ecstasy, Cocaine and Painkillers is what the Doctors pumped from his stomach; found in his bloodstream two days ago. I kept on wondering why and how and what the hell had happened, just like I had done for the past forty eight hours. The questions were still whizzing around inside of my head; the answers still on the tip of my tongue as I waited for Mike to talk to me and tell me the truth.

  
  


Running a hand through my unkempt hair, I leant back in the chair I’d been residing in all day, ever since my parents had picked Mike and I up from the hospital and brought us back here. He’d been discharged with a bunch of painkillers to help ease the pain in his head that he’d obviously hit against the bath when he’d collapsed. It didn’t make sense to me. He obviously had a problem with drugs. Why give him more?

  
  


There was a knock at the door and I turned around to see it creaking open as my kid brother, Jack, stepped inside.

  
  


“Hey,” I smiled as he stood nervously in the doorway, his mop of mousy brown hair splattered with red paint which I soon saw as I looked down, was also all over his T-shirt and smeared on his hands which were holding a piece of paper.

  
  


“What have you got?” I asked as he stepped further into the room and let the door shut behind him.

  
  


I couldn’t help but smile as he toddled over to me, a grin on his face and that twinkle in his brown eyes that never seemed to disappear. My mom always said that I’d looked just like him when I was three years old too. I hoped to God that the cute thing standing in front of me, covered from head to toe in poster paint wouldn’t turn out like me, or find himself in the situations I always seemed to fall into.

  
  


“Is Mike going to get better soon?” he asked me innocently.

  
  


“Of course he is,” I told him, reaching down to pick him up, “Don’t worry about him, he’ll be fine,” I whispered as Jack settled himself on my lap and thrust the piece of paper into my hand.

  
  


“I made it for Mike,” he told me proudly.

  
  


A smile graced my lips as my eyes scanned over the picture in front of me, a swirl of bright colours and Jack’s handprints dashing across the piece of paper.

  
  


“It’s Mike,” he smiled, prodding one of his chubby fingers against a blue and red blob in the bottom hand corner.

  
  


I found myself smiling further more as he pointed at various other shapes and smudges, telling me in his small voice that the picture was that of Mike dancing with a hippo, two sheep and a chocolate cake.

  
  


“Your chocolate cake,” he grinned, “I helped Mummy make it. It’s in the kitchen and you have to blow off the candles.”

  
  


“Out, you mean? I have to blow them out?”

  
  


He smiled and laughed, but his grin was soon to fade as he turned to look at Mike. I was still holding his pale hand, still stroking the back of it with my thumb as Jack stared at his sleeping form. I watched him for a while, watched the way his eyes took in Mike, the way his smile had faded so quickly. He knew something was wrong, yet he was all so innocent to the whole sorry situation. He just thought Mike was sick, that’s all we’d told him. And in a way I wanted that to be the case. I wanted him to just have some bug, the flu or something. I didn’t want the mess of my best friend before me to be the consequences of too much alcohol and too many poisonous drugs. I wanted to be like Jack; innocent and shielded from the bitter truth because it seemed like it would be so much easier to accept.

  
  


I heard the creek of my bedroom door opening and glancing behind me I saw my Mom was standing there with a damp facecloth in one hand and a paint stained towel in the other. She stepped inside, walking over to me and stopping behind me, her hand resting on my shoulder. I glanced away, eyeing the watch on her wrist as it ticked away, averting my eyes from the time down to her red painted nails before my gaze finally settled on Mike again.

  
  


“Hey you,” she sighed, reaching her hand around me to ruffle up Jack’s hair, “I’ve been looking around the whole house for you. You’re just like your big brother here, he never wanted to have a bath either,” she chuckled.

  
  


Jack seemed to be still staring at Mike and I realised it was probably best he left already. A small yawn escaped his mouth, followed by a sigh as he rested his head against my chest.

  
  


“Come on buddy,” I sighed, “Bedtime.”

  
  


He nodded, obviously too tired to scream and cry like he often did when the words bath or bed were mentioned and my Mom leaned over me and took him into her arms. She squeezed my shoulder and I turned away from Mike, letting his hand go for the first time in hours.

  
  


“You okay?” she whispered.

  
  


I nodded, smiling as Jack began to fall asleep in her arms. His paint stained hands were clutching onto her black smock and she tucked her long mousy brown hair behind her ears before letting go of my shoulder, her smooth hands gone as she turned to walk out of the door.

  
  


“We’ll talk tomorrow,” she told me once she’d got to the door only I’d already turned back to Mike, was running my hand through his hair and tucking the covers tighter around him.

  
  


I heard the door click shut and wiped away the tears that had started to fall down my cheeks.

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  


I lay awake in the comfort of my bedroom, lit only by the glow of the moon that was creeping in through a crack in the curtains. It was early morning but I still hadn’t fallen asleep. I was cold and the thin pyjama pants I was wearing probably accounted for my shivering but I couldn’t be bothered to get up and find something a little warmer to wear. My mind was too preoccupied with other things.

  
  


Mike was still fast asleep beside me. He’d not woken and through the dark my eyes could just make out the outline of him, his fragile features emphasized by the sighs and whimpers that had left his lips all night long. I could have sworn that he was having nightmares but he’d seemed immune to my attempts to wake him and given that he was supposed to be resting, I had decided not to try anymore and instead was keeping an eagle eye on him from where I lay in my twisted sheets.

  
  


The Darth Vader clock that I’d had since I was seven was ticking away on the wall beside the bed, it’s methodical clunk, clank noise hammering deep inside of my mind, punctuating every thought that fluttered across the mess inside of my head. I tried to stop myself thinking about Mike, about his crumpled body on Rob’s bathroom floor. I tried to stop envisaging the blood that had been seeping from his head and staining the tiles with it’s crimson inkiness. I’d tried everything I could, singing songs to myself, counting the days left until Christmas, calculating how many times I’d said fuck in my life and wondering what my voice would sound like if I sang upside down suspended by a length of rope over a cliff.

  
  


It wasn’t working though. It all came back to my best friend.

  
  


Every song I sang was one we’d written together. Every time I counted down the days till the festive holidays I remembered our short lived jobs at the local supermarket one year as Christmas elves where we had to dance around and entertain the customers every time Noddy Holder’s voice got blasted throughout the store. I couldn’t begin to figure out how many times I’d cussed in my life, yet I knew it had to be less than Mike as every other word he uttered was ‘fuck’. And every time I saw myself being suspended over a cliff I began to fall, and as I tumbled down surrounded by nothing but thin air, I could see someone above me with a pair of scissors, glaring at me. And that person was Mike, he was staring and staring and as I reached the bottom I heard him call something out.

  
  


_You didn’t save me._

  
  


I groaned and sat up, rubbing my eyes as I swung my legs out of bed and set my feet on the soft carpet beneath me. I grabbed a hoody off the floor as I tripped over a pair of shoes on my way toward the door with all intent and purpose of getting myself a glass of water. Or a stiff drink.

  
  


But why I found myself sitting outside in the freezing cold on the love seat in the back yard was beyond me. I just,  _stumbled_  out there, found a packet of cigarettes in the pocket of my sweater and promptly lit one up. A cloud of dusky smoke drifted around me as I curled my legs underneath me and looked up at the house I’d lived in almost all my life.

  
  


It belonged to my Grandparents, who’d seen it fit for my parents and me to live there with them when my Mother had fallen pregnant with me at just sixteen. It had only ever been a short term idea, just whilst my mom and dad got themselves on their feet. Only twenty two years later, here we all were; my grandparents, my parents, me, my younger sister Steph and my baby brother Jack all crammed into the small bungalow that creaked in the summer and smelt of my Grandmother’s baking in the winter.

  
  


It was weird.

  
  


Or maybe it wasn’t. Maybe sitting outside at three am and reminiscing over it was weird, or at least making me feel weird about it all. I flicked some ash into a plant pot beside me, suddenly cursing as I realised it was where Jack kept his pet snails. They were probably frazzled to death now, burning, melted by the hot remnants of my smoke. I felt bad for a few seconds before making a mental note to find some more snails later on in the day.

  
  


Snails.

  
  


I laughed to myself and lit up another cigarette. All this shit was going on with Mike. He was lying in my bed looking like death warmed up, I’d spent the night not able to shake his situation from my head and now I was thinking about my kid brother’s snail collection. Or deceased collection…

  
  


I had come outside to stop my cycle of thoughts though, but I found myself looking back up at the house again, my eyes watching the lonely hanging basket that swung in the night breeze from it’s home on the veranda. The blue paint of the back door was chipping off, despite my Dad’s promise that he was going to paint it. That had been several summers ago, just before I’d moved back in and the guest room had become my bedroom once again and the door had faded more and more, blue paint flaking off every time it got slammed shut.

  
  


A chill ran through me as I thought back about more and more things. I’d moved out when I was fifteen, to live with my one and only, the guy I thought I’d live with forever more; Josh. Flicking more ash onto the ground beneath me I could almost feel him wrapping his arms around me, just like he always would when I felt down. I closed my eyes and shivered, taking a deep breath before I found myself staring at the paint deprived door again. So many times we’d crept in late at night, so many chaste kisses had been shared by that door, so many hugs and whispers of goodnight.

  
  


I was crying again. Tears were streaming down my face, sobs escaping my lips as I angrily wiped my hand across my eyes, trying to push back in the cries that were building up inside and begging to be set free.

  
  


We’d been so happy together. We’d shared so much. We’d dreamed of being together forever, no one could have torn us apart; no one whatsoever. My parents had loved him to pieces. They’d welcomed him with open arms; they’d never had a problem with him let alone my sexuality. I’d always put their open mindedness, their care free ways down to the fact that they were so young. Now they were barely forty years old, they’d made mistakes but had never been the kind to hold me back from making my own. I’d probably not had been sitting outside in the cold had it not been for them. I’d probably had been six feet under, spitting up daises. Dead.

  
  


When Josh died my whole world had crumbled. Josh passing away had been so out of the blue; at least to me it had. But of course, no one kills themselves without a real reason, without the need and want to escape the world not having built up inside them for months on end. I never knew he felt low. I never knew that my own boyfriend, the one person I’d die for had been rotting away for months on end, plotting his way out of the world right behind my back.

  
  


And at sixteen years old I fell to pieces. Of course I did. What else was expected of me other than to sit and cradle the memories of my dead boyfriend in my mind night after night and ask myself relentlessly where it had all gone wrong and  _why_  I’d found him one morning in the bathroom, crumpled on the floor choking to death on his own vomit; drowning in his own blood.

  
  


After that all I could remember about moving back home was the fact that my mom had hassled my dad to paint the door one evening as I’d sat in this very place, watching the clouds of the summer slowly drift past above me. I couldn’t remember the pain, or the tears. Just the bloody door and the way my dad had answered ‘Yes dear, I’ll do it tomorrow’. Sometimes tomorrow was a world away with him.

  
  


Sometimes happiness was a world away with me.

  
  


I stubbed out my cigarette and got to my feet. My ass was cold, my fingers were numb and as I trudged back inside the warm house I wondered when in hell I was going to stop being so melodramatic.

  
  


Shutting my bedroom door quietly behind me, I realised I hadn’t even gotten myself a drink like I’d intended. I was too tired to go back though, I wanted nothing more than to snuggle up in bed and sleep the night away, and possibly the next day too. The walk outside appeared to have made me drowsy and I was just about to grab my pillow and settle myself on the floor so as not to disturb Mike. I’d slept in cramped camper vans. The floor would be a doddle. Only Mike let out a whimper as I slid my pillow out of the bed.

  
  


“Ches..?” he whispered, his voice cracking.

  
  


“Hey,” I whispered back, sitting down on the edge of the bed.

  
  


My eyes had grown accustomed to the dark so I was able to see the fragile look on his tired face as his eyes slowly fluttered open and he glanced around the room in what looked like a somewhat confused manner. Leaning behind him, I flicked my desk lamp on, filling the small area around us with its dusky orange glow.

  
  


He blinked back at me as I reached my hand to his head and brushed my fingers through his hair, repeating the words I’d found myself uttering earlier on.

  
  


“Idiot,” I sighed.

  
  


He frowned, his chapped lips forming to say something, only no words were spoken. Instead he just closed his mouth and stared back up at the ceiling. My clock was ticking once again, echoing around the room. I had a good mind to fling it across the room. I so hadn’t missed it while we’d been on the road. Even the sound of a running clapped out engine didn’t drive me as mad. Maybe I’d take the batteries out.

  
  


“Come on,” I sighed again, crossing my legs and resting my hands in my lap, “I’ve got the right to say that.”

  
  


“I know,” he murmured glumly.

  
  


“I’m tired,” I paused to take my pillow before I got to my feet, “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  
  


“Chester.. Where are you going?”

  
  


“Floor? I’m not sleeping too well. I’ll probably kick you or wake you up again or something,” I told him, dropping my pillow to the floor.

  
  


Truth was, I couldn’t sleep next to him because my mind wouldn’t switch off from the terrifying facts that were repeatedly slapping me in the face harder than one of Brad’s scathing remarks.

  
  


“You can kick me all you like,” Mike whispered quietly, no hint of humour whatsoever in his voice.

  
  


I bent down and picked up my pillow, swiftly realising what a selfish asshole I was being. My best friend had just overdosed, for whatever reasons and was now looking at me as if I’d just slapped him hard in the face, which metaphorically speaking aside I might as well have done. I’d never felt the need to drive a huge wedge between us any other time, nor did I plan to start creating one.

  
  


“Okay then,” I smiled, plonking my pillow, then myself down onto my bed.

  
  


Mike moved up a little as I pulled the warm covers over me and snuggled up beside him. I lay for a good few seconds just watching him as he stared back at me. The cut on his face looked painful, as did the black smudge of a bruise which had specks of blue dancing across it, tainting his complexion. He’d taken some fucking fall. I wanted to curse at him for not being more careful, for not letting Brad stay with him, for drinking and getting smashed but I knew he’d had his reasons.

  
  


“How are you feeling?” I finally asked, turning onto my side so I was facing him.

  
  


“Crap,” he replied honestly, chewing nervously on his chipped black fingernails.

  
  


A sigh escaped my lips as I leant forward and took his hand. He stopped chewing his nails then, he stopped and looked at me, nervously biting his bottom lip instead as I began to speak.

  
  


“Why?” I asked, “Why did this happen?”

  
  


He frowned, “What did Brad tell you?”

  
  


“Hmm? What does that have to do with anything? He just said he left you in the lounge at Rob’s, you’d passed out or something,” I explained, figuring that the poor thing was obviously still delirious from the medication he’d been given. That or the bump on his head.

  
  


“So he didn’t say anything?”

  
  


“About what?”

  
  


He shrugged, fiddling with the bed sheets with his free hand. I watched him for a few minutes as he fidgeted about beside me, staring past me with worried eyes. My hand instinctively tightened around his, my throat feeling dry as I tried to ask him the question I was dreading hearing myself say.

  
  


“Mike,” I sighed, waiting until he was looking at me before I carried on.

  
  


His brown eyes flicked to mine, and I knew that he was scared as hell, maybe out of confusion, or maybe because he was remembering what he’d done. That had to be why he was starting to resemble a deer caught in the headlights of a truck. Just spit it out already, I decided.

  
  


“You, you didn’t try to… y’know… kill yourself?”

  
  


“W.. What?” he spluttered, “Is that what you think?”

  
  


Obviously not then.

  
  


“No… I… Yes. Well what am I supposed to think Mike?”

  
  


“I didn’t, Chester I swear I didn’t,” he paused, “God I’m sorry. All I remember is Brad leaving and then I felt sick,” he closed his eyes, “I must have gone to the bathroom for some painkillers. I guess I wasn’t thinking straight… I must have fallen…”

  
  


“It’s okay,” I sighed, a weight falling from my shoulders as Mike smiled weakly back at me., “Let’s sleep,” I whispered into the night air, “I’m shattered.”

  
  
  
  


*

  
  
  
  


I opened my eyes, finding myself somewhere between a state of conciseness and the dark depths of the bad dream I’d been having. Groaning, I rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands and sat up a little, blearily scanning the room around me, my gaze finally resting on the clock which glared back at me, letting me know that it was almost midday. The sleeping figure beside me stirred, causing me to jump a little, my tiny mind having forgotten that Mike was there. I shuffled onto my side, wincing as I saw the bruises on his face had darkened; their colour intensified against his pale skin. I let my hand wonder, fingertips tracing gently across his forehead, feeling sleep tug at my eyes once I again. I felt them close only to snap open once again when I heard someone else beside me clearing their throat. My body grappled to sit up and my eyes met with the one thing I didn’t particularly want to see first thing. Ever. It was Brad, a smirk on his face, glint in his eye ever present as he sat himself down on the chair beside my bed.

  
  


“He okay?” he asked after a short spell of silence in which I’m sure the glint in his eyes went from manic to normal in a matter of nanoseconds.

  
  


Whatever. I’d just woken up. I had a shitload of things on my mind and now was not the time to be trying to figure out Brad Delson.

  
  


“He’s tired,” I told him, carefully dislodging myself from under Mike’s body and getting myself to my feet, my arms automatically stretching themselves out above my head, followed by a yawn, “Anyway, how’d you get in?”

  
  


“Your Mom let me in, told me to come to your room. Been here a for a while now,” he paused, “Cosy, were you?”

  
  


I rolled my eyes and chose not to answer Brad’s question as I got to my feet and brushed past him, resisting all temptation to jab him in the shoulders or do something equally as mature. Making it to my window without falling over my clothes and some other random belongings, I pushed it open and revelled in that poor old undervalued thing called fresh air. Fumbling about in the tobacco tin that had been in wait on the windowsill, I took out a cigarette, lit it up and allowed myself a long, hard drag from it before turning toward Brad as he headed over to me.

  
  


“He’s going to be okay, right?”

  
  


I raised my eyebrow at him. For once in his life Brad Delson seemed genuinely concerned with someone else’s welfare as a pose to just being centred on his own. How refreshing, I thought bitterly as I flicked some ash out of my window, took another drag then decided to answer him.

  
  


“He’s going to be fine. You should have stayed with him y’know,” I pointed out.

  
  


“Yeah I know and right at this fucking moment I really wish I had, okay?”

  
  


A pang of guilt swam through me as Brad sat down beside me on the windowsill with a thud and a somewhat dejected sigh escaped through his lips. He ran a hand over his skull and glanced across at Mike’s sleeping form before his eyes settled on me once again.

  
  


“Have you spoken to him yet?”

  
  


“He didn’t say much,” I sighed, watching as more ash floated through the air, spiralling down to the ground outside and fading away from my eyes, “He says he felt sick so he went to the bathroom, took some painkillers and then he thought he must have fallen… least that’s all he can remember.”

  
  


Brad let out a long sigh and I stubbed my cigarette out into a half full ashtray that I couldn’t even remember when I’d last emptied before I shut the window and leant back against it, my forlorn gaze finding itself on Mike’s sleeping form once again.

  
  


“And that’s all he said, right? He didn’t say anything else?”

  
  


“No,” I sighed, momentarily watching Brad who seemed as jumpy and uncomfortable as I was feeling.

  
  


My eyes were soon on Mike again though and as Brad made his excuses and left the room, mumbling something about having to be at work, I barely heard because my eyes were trained on my best friend and the small whimpers that were now escaping his lips as he slept. Frowning, I got to my feet and walked over to him, kneeling down beside my bed as I took one of his cold hands and squeezed it tight.

  
  


“Hey,” I smiled as his eyes slowly opened looked at me for a few seconds before they flickered up toward the ceiling, without a word from his lips.

  
  


“I get it,” I sighed, “You want to sleep and forget about everything and the last thing you want is a lecture from your best friend?”

  
  


Mike smiled a little and nodded before closing his eyes and rolling onto his side.

  
  


“You know, I swear you can read my mind at times,” he whispered, eyes still shut.

  
  


“I wish I could.”

  
  


Mike cracked one eye open and looked right at me, “No,” he sighed, “No, you really do  _not_  mean that,” he told me before closing his eyes and burying his head into the pillows.

  
  


“We’ll talk later,” I sighed, squeezing his hand before I got to my feet.

  
  


Grabbing some clothes, I headed into the bathroom and less than twenty minutes later I was showered and dressed and ambling into the kitchen, allured by the aroma of my Grandma Lila’s cooking that had been wafting down the hallway. She stood by the stove, talking to my mother who was sat at the table typing away on her laptop and swatting my brother’s hands away every time they jabbed at the keys.

  
  


“Ahh it’s alive!” My dad smiled from where stood in front of the kitchen sink, planting what looked like something completely illegal and knowing my father it probably was. Everything bad; my annoying traits and my mischievous habits, I’d picked them up from him.

  
  


“Yes, it’s alive,” I jested, swooping down to pick up Jack from his chair. He giggled as I spun him around a couple of times.

  
  


“How’s Mike?” My mom asked, looking up from her work.

  
  


“Tired,” I sighed, “I’ve left him to sleep.”

  
  


“That’s probably a wise idea,” she nodded, “He can stay as long as he likes okay? Just you make sure he knows that.”

  
  


“And make sure he eats something too,” Lila added with a smile, “I’ve cooked plenty and you two boys look like you need fattening up. All this time travelling around it’s a wonder you have time to eat properly,” she told me light heartedly.

  
  


“Yes Lila, whatever you say Lila,” I quipped.

  
  


“Less of that cheek,” she chuckled, “Or I’ll be giving you extra helpings of vegetables, you hear me?”

  
  


I smiled and lifted Jack onto my shoulders, momentarily forgetting that my life felt pretty shit but as Lila had said to me many times; whenever you feel like shit, you’ve got to carry on regardless. I wasn’t sure if I were putting on a brave front, or if my family who I’d seen so little of in the past year were just reminding me with their smiles and caring ways that when it came down to it, happiness came from those around you. Or something along those rose tinted lines.

  
  


Smiling at the complexity of my inner thoughts, I found myself at the sink, watching with suspicious eyes as my father placed handfuls of soil and compost into several terracotta plant pots, his stubby fingers pressing down into the mixture.

  
  


“What you planting?” Jack asked inquisitively.

  
  


“Plants,” My dad smiled.

  
  


“No, what Jack means is what  _kind_  of plants,” I smirked, watching as my father threw me a playful glare.

  
  


“It’s a special plant,” he paused, “It helps heal people,” he grinned, picking his words carefully.

  
  


“And it will also get you into a lot of trouble if anyone finds out Lee!” My mother scorned, “I thought I told you to be discreet with that crap that god forbid you insist of having in here!”

  
  


Jack squirmed in my arms and I bent down and let him toddle off, laughing as my father muttered something about it being for medicinal purposes, which lets face it, was a load of bollocks. I headed out of the kitchen, passing the living room where I paused at the door and watched in amusement as my Grandfather attempted to change channels on the TV before exclaiming something along the lines of ‘Ahh screw it’ and throwing the small device down onto the table. I chuckled, causing him to look up.

  
  


“Ahh, didn’t see you there son. How are you doing? Good birthday was it?”

  
  


“Yeah, yeah it was alright,” I nodded.

  
  


“Nothing special birthdays aren’t,” he nodded, “Soon as you get past twenty one it’s all the same; another year, another day. How’s young Michael doing?”

  
  


“He’s okay,” I answered.

  
  


“Good good. You make sure he’s more than okay, won’t you?”

  
  


“You know I will,” I smiled, carrying on down the hallway and stopping once again as I came to my sister’s doorway.

  
  


She was lying on her bed, staring up to the ceiling with a somewhat forlorn look on her face. Pressing my hand against the slightly open door, I rapped my knuckle against it, half expecting her to tell me to piss off.

  
  


“Come in,” she sighed.

  
  


I pushed the door open and stepped inside her room, dodging hair straighteners, clothes and battered magazines that scattered themselves across her floor. It looked like she was taking after me in the stakes for messiest room.

  
  


“You alright?” I asked, settling down on the edge of her black and red spotted bed sheets.

  
  


“Not really.”

  
  


“What’s wrong then?” I asked, gazing around her cluttered room.

  
  


Her walls were lined with posters of Robert Smith and Kurt Cobain. School books and sheets of coloured paper littered her desk which stood underneath an old shelf filled with My Little Ponies and Barbie dolls with badly cut hair. The wardrobe in the far corner was bursting open with clothes and shoes and another poster, this time of Billie Joe, was tacked to the inside of one of the doors and his baby face, kohl rimmed eyes were staring back at me. Her room was every teenage girl. She was so not ready to become a mother.

  
  


“Steph ?”

  
  


“It’s Mom. She’s doing my head in. She just keeps going on about everything, y’know, what I’ve got to do, where I’ve got to go, what I can and can’t do. She’s even banned me from going to see you guys play next month. I mean, how unfair is that?!”

  
  


“Aww come on Steph , I’m sure she didn’t say you couldn’t come…”

  
  


“She did too.”

  
  


“It’s tradition. We always go to the Spring Festival together and beside, you’ve got to be there to see the one and only Hybrid Theory playing!”

  
  


“That’s exactly why she won’t let me go. I told her I was going to be front row, cheering you guys on and she totally flipped out…”

  
  


“And did she say you couldn’t go?” I asked, knowing damn well she hadn’t.

  
  


“Well, no, not in so many words…”

  
  


“You’re pregnant Steph . You can’t exactly be bouncing about in a mosh pit for an hour can you?”

  
  


“But all my friends will be there…”

  
  


“Steph ,” I sighed, “I know it’s hard…”

  
  


“Do you? How’s that so Chester, huh? I don’t remember seeing  _you_  carrying a foetus.”

  
  


“Okay okay. I don’t  _know_ , but I can imagine, okay? I sympathize with you.”

  
  


“I don’t want your fucking sympathy,” she groaned.

  
  


“Fine. I’ll be a total bastard,” I huffed.

  
  


“You? A total bastard!? I don’t think so bro. You’ve not got it in you.”

  
  


“What?!” I giggled, throwing a star shaped pillow at her, “I have  _so_.”

  
  


“No way. You’re way too gay to be mean to anyone. Even Brad. And I know how much he pisses you off.”

  
  


“That’s beside the point,” I smiled, “Listen Steph. Mom just wants to do the best for you. Let her have her ‘mother knows best’ moments and be done with it. You’ll thank her for it in the long run and hey, at least she’s not thrown you out like a lot of parents would have done…”

  
  


“Yeah well she could hardly do that with her track record, could she?”

  
  


“Steph ! Listen to yourself!”

  
  


“It’s true. I mean, how old was she when she had you? Sixteen? So how can she preach to me about me being too young, tell me what a mess I’ve made of things; dictate to me what I can and can’t do and just generally make me feel like I’m one huge disappointment to her.”

  
  


“That’s not true. She is not disappointed in you at all,” I sighed, grabbing a heart shaped cushion and fiddling with it’s frilly edge for a few seconds, “You know, when mom got pregnant with me, she was so depressed. She didn’t know what to do or who to turn to and she did a brave thing telling Lila. She was mad at first, but then she came around to the idea and she did all she could to help mom.”

  
  


“I bet. I bet she didn’t make her feel like shit. I bet she didn’t make her regret having this thing inside her,” Steph hissed, prodding her stomach.

  
  


“You don’t think mom regretted having me?” I asked, raising my eyebrows, “Because I know for a fact that she did. I wasn’t planned, just like you didn’t plan to become pregnant either but Steph , you’ve got to work around this. It’s not the ideal situation, I know it isn’t but for God’s sake just stop being so stubborn. Let mom do her thing, because she’s been there, she knows how you’re feeling.. You know if you spoke to her, it might help make things better. You know what mom calls me?” I smiled wryly, “The best mistake of her life and that little thing in there,” I paused, pointing to her stomach, “That could be the best mistake of your life if you accept it…”

  
  


Steph sighed and bit her lip, “I hate you Chester,” she smiled, “You always make so much sense.”

  
  


I raised my eyebrows as I got to my feet and placed the cushion back down on her bed. Make sense? Me? Hardly. Anything but make sense is how I felt half the time. Mumbling see you later, I headed across the hallway and into my bedroom, softly shutting the door behind me. Mike was fast asleep and I went and sat cross legged beside him on the bed because something told me that he really needed me at that moment in time.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Life would have been so much easier if I’d had known the whole truth and the real reasons why Mike needed me so badly. Sometimes I wish that I could have had psychic powers back then. That way I would have been able to stop so much shit from happening not only to him but to myself as well.


	6. I can feel my mind wandering again

“I’m sorry for scaring you.”

  
  


Two days later and I sat at my desk; gnawed pencil in one hand and a cigarette in the other as my eyes lazily scanned over the jumbled masses of words on the sheet of paper before me. Mike’s words broke me out of my daze yet I couldn’t turn to face him, ashamed that I’d been crying again. I didn’t want him to see me like this. He’d only feel he was the one to blame for my anguish and I wasn’t about to pin any blame on him at all. It was just me being me, completely unstable and feeling sorry for myself as usual.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath as Mike’s hand pressed gently against my bare back because all I could see was him lying unconscious on the bathroom floor, all I could feel was the utter panic that had risen inside me as I scrambled to get him to wake up.

  
  


“Please talk to me,” he whispered, his voice shaking as he spoke.

  
  


It took a lot for me to open my eyes, to pull myself away from the eerie place my mind had escaped to and I sucked in another deep breath, shakily wiped my tears away with the back of my hand then placed the butt of my cigarette into a stained ashtray before I turned to face him.

  
  


“You’re crying,” he stated, quickly kneeling down in front of me.

  
  


“Sorry,” I mumbled, flinching as his fingertips brushed across my tearstained cheeks.

  
  


“Please don’t cry because of me. I never meant to make you cry.”

  
  


“Well what did you fucking think I’d do, huh?” I snapped, slapping his hands away.

  
  


Mike stood up, quickly stepped back as I got to my feet and snatched a tissue from the box on my nightstand. An eerie silence was quick to drift between us and for a good few minutes I was mentally collecting all thoughts in my mind before I began to speak.

  
  


“After Josh I swore to myself that I’d never, ever get close to someone again. The day after his funeral I made a pact with myself. I vowed that it’d just be me and only me for the rest of my fucking life. I figured that way that I’d never get hurt again. Then I started to realise that I was being selfish and locking my feelings away from everyone else was really not working at all. It felt safe for a while, y’know but then it turned to loneliness and that’s one of my biggest fears. So I let you in Mike, I let you in and now I feel like ‘what’s the point?’ because you bottle things up inside, you keep things from me and won’t let me help you with your problems.”

  
  


My words hung in the air, floating around the room in silence long after they’d left my mouth. Mike stared at the floor, shoved his hands deep into the pockets of his grey hoody and I slowly sat down on my bed, fiddling with the rings on my fingers as I tried to collect some thoughts in my head.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” I whispered earning a solemn glance from Mike before he stepped over and sat down beside me on the bed.

  
  


My hands drew lazy patterns against the patchwork quilt that I’d had since I was about five years old. My Grandmother had made me it one winter and it had kept me warm for nights on end. I couldn’t help but wonder what stories it would be able to tell if it could speak. They’d range from hilarious to downright miserable is all I could conclude as Mike’s ice cold hand brushed against mine and tugged me back to reality.

  
  


“No,” he paused, “ _I’m_  sorry. I can’t imagine how fucking angry you must be with me, believe me, I’m just as angry with myself. I know what it’s like to find someone half dead,” he stopped, “I know how much it hurts and I’m so sorry I put you through that…”

  
  


“It was an accident though, right?” I whispered, “I’m not angry with you… Please don’t take this the wrong way but it all reminded me of what happened with Josh and Mike I can’t face going through that ever again, I think it would break me completely…”

  
  


“I didn’t try to kill myself though Chester,” his voice spoke full of urgency.

  
  


“I know… I know, I just get scared so easily.”

  
  


Silence drifted between us. Hell, there was so much I had to say; so many words whirring around inside my head but I wouldn’t have known where to start with them. Mike shifted closer and it wasn’t until I felt his arm sliding around my waist and pulling me closer that I began to cry. Maybe it was relief, maybe it was my own weird way of letting all of those untold words out. Whatever it was, it worked because I could feel Mike holding me and he was there with me; he was alright, he was still alive.

  
  


“You smell of chocolate,” I whispered into his neck, closing my eyes as he enveloped me in his arms.

  
  


“You’re not going to eat me are you?”

  
  


“Depends,” I smiled.

  
  


“On what?”

  
  


“How good you might taste,” I whispered in a faux seductive voice, cracking my eyes open.

  
  


Mike burst into laughter and pushed me against a pile of cushions, promptly picking one and thwacking me over the head with it. Blindly making a grab for my pillow I aimed it in the general direction of his stomach, giggles emitting from me as he snatched away my weapon and continued to assault me, now with one of my sisters heart shaped cushions.

  
  


When we finally settled down, our laughter fading into small hiccups I flopped down against my bed once again and shook my head.

  
  


“Just promise me something Mike?”

  
  


“Sure,” he smiled.

  
  


“From now on you talk to me more often and stop using the drink and drugs to comfort you…”

  
  


His smile faded but he nodded his head, “I promise you.”

  
  


But even your soul mates can break their promises.

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


Several days later and the sun shining down on me, seeping through a crack in the window behind me was doing little to help my concentration and before I knew it I was placing my pen and paper down on the floor and walking out of Phi’s kitchen into the back yard where the rest of my band mates minus Mike sat around, talking shit and catching sunrays.

  
  


It was so easy for me to get distracted and as I sat myself down on the low wall next to Phoenix I couldn’t help but check my watch because Mike had sworn he’d be back hours ago and now as the afternoon started to draw on, I wondered just where he’d got to. He’d spent the past few days obviously trying to erase his incident from not only his mind but everyone else’s as well. Things had felt a little more relaxed though but he did keep clamming up when I’d mentioned his drinking habits which had resulted in him hiding away in my bedroom writing page after page of lyrics. Today had been the first time we were supposed to meet as a band, find some rehearsal space and getting practicing for the Spring Festival. But Mike had left before me, telling me he needed to visit his Mother before handing me one of his notebooks and telling me he’d be over around noon. It was now four thirty and I was vaguely aware of someone’s eyes on me, watching me like a hawk as I chewed nervously on my fingernails and tried to pay attention to the conversation.

  
  


It was Phoenix who was watching me closely, a look of bewilderment upon his face.

  
  


“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice soft so as not to alert the others to our conversation.

  
  


I sighed, “Nothing…”

  
  


“Yeah, right,” he smiled, “And  _nothing_  makes you look like you’re in dire need of some therapy?”

  
  


“Hey Phi, is your old drum kit set up in the garage yet?” Rob called across the yard, where he sat in an old deckchair bouncing a tennis ball on the patio.

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


“Cool, let’s go and get some practice in then. I’m itching to bang something…”

  
  


“Yeah, I know that feeling,” Joe laughed.

  
  


“Ha, ha,” Rob rolled his eyes, “You coming Brad?”

  
  


“Yeah,” he nodded, pausing to glance at Phi and I, “Maybe you two can join in the fun later on if Mike shows up?”

  
  


“Sure,” Phi smiled half heatedly before tugging my hands and pulling me to my feet, “Come on, inside. I want to talk to you about something.”

  
  


I followed him back into the kitchen, which was currently littered with half used paint tins and dust sheets. Phoenix had moved in only a few weeks ago and was getting in some much needed decorating in the spare time we had before May when we had to go into the recording studios and make ourselves a mini album to arm us for the summer tour that Rocky was setting up for us. It all seemed like too much of a headache to me though. I was so damn grateful we’d been given these opportunities… but it felt like too much at the wrong time.

  
  


“I think you should talk to me,” Phoenix told me very matter of factly as he pushed the back door shut, “Now that the others are out of the way. You’ve been walking around with a face like a wet weekend for the past few days.”

  
  


“Is it any wonder?” I sighed leaning back against a cupboard door, “My best friend nearly died and everyone’s walking around, acting like nothing ever happened. Do you know how hard it is to get the image of his twisted, bloody body out of my mind? I thought he was dead,” I whispered, squeezing my eyes shut in some lame attempt to stop my tears from falling.

  
  


“Chester, what happened was an accident,” Phoenix sighed, stepping beside me and somewhat attentively placing his hand upon my lower arm, “Mike’s okay now…”

  
  


“No,” I whispered, “He’s not. His Mother is going through another manic phase and I can’t seem to make him see that he’s starting to need help just as much as she does…”

  
  


“Hey, calm down,” Phi soothed, “I know it shook you up, y’know, finding Mike the same way that you found Josh. But it’s not the same Chester, he’s still very much with us so…”

  
  


“I’m scared though,” I sighed, “I’m just so scared of fucking up again and not noticing if one of my friends is hurting over something. It’s crazy but I need to know he’s okay all the time. Hell, I’m even worried sick right now because he’s later than he said.”

  
  


“Come on,” Phoenix smiled, “How often is Mike actually on time? Look, I understand how you feel, I really do. I’m worried about him too. I’m also worried about you as well as a ton of other things. That’s why I’ve been hiding away, doing this place up. It’s the only way I can take my mind of things. You’ve every right to worry about Mike, I’m not denying you that, but working yourself up, not eating or sleeping properly is not the way to go about it. You need to sit down and tell him what you just told me…”

  
  


“He’ll think I’m crazy… besides I already told him how I feel. He just doesn‘t seem to want to open up about it.”

  
  


“Chester, you  _are_  crazy.”

  
  


I laughed and nudged him in the ribs.

  
  


“Just chill. Please?”

  
  


I nodded, “You’re right. I really need to sit down and chat. I just don’t want him to think I’m interfering…”

  
  


“He won’t. He’s a little messed up right now and I’m sure deep down all he needs is you to be there for him, okay?”

  
  


“You’re right,” I smiled, “Thanks.”

  
  


“Anytime,” he smiled.

  
  


“So, what’s eating you?” I asked.

  
  


“Ahh, I think you have enough on your plate…”

  
  


“Yeah?” I asked, raising my eyebrows, “Well humour me.”

  
  


“Okay,” he paused, “It’s about Sophie, the girl I’ve been seeing for a while. I really like her. I really do…”

  
  


“Are you trying to convince yourself?”

  
  


“Well, that’s the thing. I like her a lot. But as a friend. We’ve only been seeing each other for a few months and she still doesn’t know that I’m bisexual.”

  
  


“Does that matter though?”

  
  


“That she doesn’t know? I’m not sure… Look,” he sighed, pausing to look me dead in the eye, “Can I be brutally honest here?”

  
  


“Sure,” I nodded, “Shoot.”

  
  


“I think I prefer men. As in, I think I’d prefer her as a good friend or…”

  
  


“Anything but your girlfriend?”

  
  


Phoenix looked down to the floor, stood awkwardly for a few moments as his scuffed trainers rubbed against the faded lino tiles.

  
  


“Why is it so hard for me to know?”

  
  


“I guess it’s just a matter of time Phi, you can’t expect all the answers…”

  
  


“Yeah but I’ve been to-ing and fro-ing between men and women since I was sixteen.”

  
  


“Then maybe you’re just stuck in the middle, maybe you are bisexual?”

  
  


“But I don’t want to be stuck in the middle. Every time I get with a guy I start comparing them to girls. It’s the same when I’m with a girl.”

  
  


“You’re just plain awkward,” I smirked, “Picky,” I laughed, sticking my tongue out.

  
  


“I know,” he smiled, “But seriously, I want to know. I don’t want to go through life with a constant question hanging over me.”

  
  


“Dude it doesn’t have to be like that you know. I don’t even think it’s about finding the right gender. It’s about finding the right person. They might be female or they might be male, but when you find them you’ll know, you’ll feel like they’re the only person you ever want to wake up with, the only person you want to share every last fucking thing with. You’ve just got to be patient, not worry about it so much.”

  
  


“Sounds like you’re speaking from experience?”

  
  


“Maybe,” I shrugged.

  
  


“I wish I’d met him.”

  
  


“Who?”

  
  


“Josh.”

  
  


“How do you know I’m talking about him?” I asked with a small smile.

  
  


Phoenix frowned, “I didn’t. I just assumed. Sorry,” he paused, “You’re right. I should stop fretting. I’m telling that to myself all the time. I just don’t want to end up married with kids and wishing I was out at a gay bar getting laid.”

  
  


“Then doesn’t that give you some kind of indication?”

  
  


“What, that I’m gay?”

  
  


“Well yes, if that’s what you fear you’ll secretly end up wishing for.”

  
  


“But that’s the thing, I also don’t want to end up with some guy and be constantly craving the family life…”

  
  


“It’ll come to you,” I nodded, patting him on the back, “One day, when you least expect it, you’ll find that perfect person and you’ll wonder what you did all the worrying for.”

  
  


“You’re right,” he nodded, getting up to grab a couple of cans of beer from the fridge, “What about you? Have you found that perfect person yet?” he asked me, passing me a beer.

  
  


“Thanks,” I nodded, cracking open the can, “I dunno. Sometimes I think I might have done. Sometimes I’m not so sure. To be honest, since Josh, I don’t think I could cope with getting that close to anyone,” I told him, taking a swig of beer.

  
  


“What about Mike?”

  
  


“Mike?” I chuckled, “Mike’s my soul mate…”

  
  


“Yeah, soul mates make good lovers, do they not?”

  
  


“I can’t believe you said that you sick fuck,” I laughed, prodding him in the ribs with my free hand, “That’s like fucking incest or something. God I love Mike with my heart and soul…”

  
  


“And you’re saying he wouldn’t be your perfect partner?” Phoenix mocked.

  
  


“Shut up! Maybe when we’re in our forties and have no one else, then maybe…”

  
  


“Oh I’m sure he’d love you for that! His last resort! His backup plan!”

  
  


I ignored that comment and downed some more beer, glancing momentarily at the clock. It was almost five o’clock. So much for midday then.

  
  


“It’s a shame. You’ve got a lot of love to give Chester, a lot of good in you. You’ll make some man very happy one day,” he smiled, “And before you laugh or punch me, don’t. I’m being sincere here,” he paused, “Well, as sincere as one can be with a can of beer down their throat…”

  
  


“Keep sweet talking me like that and maybe you can be my backup plan,” I grinned, hopping down from the kitchen worktop and grabbing another couple of cans from the fridge.

  
  


Phoenix smiled back, taking one of the cans and popping it open as I leant against the fridge door. For a moment neither of us spoke and as I guzzled down the beer I let my mind wonder to the familiar beat that was reverberating from the garage next door. I knew I  _knew_  the song but what exactly it was wouldn’t come to my mind. It was starting to annoy me when Phoenix piped up with the answer.

  
  


“Teenage Kicks by The Undertones,” he smiled.

  
  


“How did you know I was thinking about it?” I asked.

  
  


“Ahh, you know, great minds and all that,” he shrugged, “So,” he paused looking at me intensely for a few moments, “How much more sweet talking do I have to do?”

  
  


I laughed out loud, “You are terrible, you know that right?”

  
  


“I know,” he grinned, “Think we should show our faces to the others? Doesn’t look like Mike’s coming does it?”

  
  


“No,” I shook my head and placed my empty can down on the worktop behind me, “I’m not really in the mood to hang with them to be honest. I’ll only feel bad if we’re having a whole load of fun without Mike.”

  
  


“See what I mean Chester. Always putting others before yourself, always got so much love to give…”

  
  


“Are you still trying to sweet talk me?” I smiled.

  
  


“No,” Phoenix shook his head, “I really meant that. Come here,” he sighed, opening his arms as he stepped over to me and embraced me.

  
  


I sank into his arms and slowly relaxed, let my hands slide around his waist. Hugging Phi was different to hugging anyone else. He held me in such a protective manner, with such strong wills inside of him. It was hard to describe but I wasn’t really thinking about it so much when I felt his lips grazing against my neck.

  
  


“What was that for?” I murmured, slowly pulling away.

  
  


“You just look like you could do with some TLC,” he nodded, smoothing his hands up and down my back, “Right?”

  
  


Slowly, I found myself nodding my head and wasn’t at all surprised when I felt our heads moving closer, my eyes closing and his lips brushing against mine.

  
  


How we made it upstairs and into his bedroom, I wasn’t really sure but it didn’t seem all that long until we were laying side by side on his bed and his lips were still kissing mine as he eased me out of my clothes. The sun was a mere smudge in the sky as I slid Phi’s shirt over his head and gently pushed his jeans down, the sound of his belt clanging against the wooden floorboards the only noise in the room beside our erratic breathing as he pushed me onto my back and straddled me down. Phi didn’t need me to tell him that this was the first time I’d been intimate with anyone since Josh. His movements were soft and slow, his fingers were dancing up and down my sides and his kisses were only interrupted with his voice asking me if I were okay.

  
  


Of course I was okay. I was on cloud fucking nine as he started to grind his naked body against mine and my hands slid up and down his smooth back, fingernails clawing at his skin as our lips melted together and my mouth became alive with the taste of his saliva and the sweet scent of the beer we’d been drinking.

  
  


“Shit…”

  
  


“Fuck…”

  
  


I closed my eyes, took a deep breath in as Phi’s fingers slid inside me. The tube of lubricant that he’d pulled from under his nightstand rolled onto the floor just as my hips bucked and I begged him to give me more. His fingers gone, I opened my eyes, hazily watching him as he gently moved my legs apart and his right arm slid around my waist, holding my tightly as he guided himself in with his free hand. Pain surged through me and my eyes clamped shut as Phi buried himself deep within me. I could hardly breathe. All the painful memories had somehow escaped my mind but as he lay atop of me, breathing heavily and smoothing away my tears, they all came crashing back to me.

  
  


“I won’t hurt you,” he whispered absently, lips grazing against my ear, “Okay?”

  
  


I nodded, cursed as he drew back and pushed in but he’d not lied. It felt amazing;  _he_  felt fucking amazing. My heart pounded, hands clawed against the sheets beneath me, lips locked with his as he started to come inside me. I couldn’t stop moaning as his warm seed slinked within me and with one final thrust I climaxed, gasping for breath as he collapsed atop of me and my arms slid around his waist, pulling him closer.

  
  


My eyes didn’t seem to want to open as I felt Phi pulling out of me and sitting up beside me. His hands smoothed the hair from my forehead and I listened as he stepped around the bed, the sound of clothes rustling telling me he was getting dressed.

  
  


“You stay there as long as you like,” he murmured and I felt him press a kiss to the top of my head before his footsteps faded away and the door lightly shut behind him.

  
  


I must have fallen asleep because when I next looked around the room it was almost dark and there was a shadowy figure in the form of Mike sitting next to me on the bed with a battered notebook in his hands. The light shining in through the window must have been enough for him to see his lazy scrawls and I watched him writing for a few minutes before he noticed me and looked up, a small smile gracing his face as he put down his pencil.

  
  


“Hey,” he nodded, trying way too hard not to let his smirk show.

  
  


“Hey yourself,” I nodded back, sitting up beside him, “What you writing?”

  
  


“What am I writing?” Mike chuckled, “Forget that. What are you doing naked in Phi’s bed?!”

  
  


“Don’t,” I hushed him, feeling around for my T-shirt which I promptly tugged over my head, “Where are the others?”

  
  


“Downstairs eating takeout. I’m sorry I was late, had to sort out a few things first…”

  
  


“Like what?” I asked, a yawn escaping my mouth as I tried to remember which side of the room Phi had flung my boxer shorts to.

  
  


“That can wait,” Mike smiled, “You had sex? About fucking time…”

  
  


“Can you pass me my erm, boxers?” I asked, finally locating them as they hung on ceremony from the door handle.

  
  


Mike chuckled and got to his feet, flinging them in my direction before he bent down to pick up my trousers. I scrambled to pull them on beneath the sheets before snatching my crumpled up excuse for a pair of jeans from Mike’s hands.

  
  


“So where’d you get to?” I asked, feeling around in my back pocket for my cigarettes.

  
  


“Just to my mom’s,” he sighed sitting back down on the bed as I wriggled myself into my trousers.

  
  


“Everything alright?”

  
  


“No, not really,” he paused as he closed his notebook and pushed the pen down the spine, “Chuck left.”

  
  


“Oh.”

  
  


“Yeah and you know what? I was mildly surprised. The thing is, the house is immaculate and she looks amazing. She was walking around in a Christian Dior dress when I got there, hoover in one hand and the bloody bible in the other.”

  
  


“You what?” I asked, staring open mouthed.

  
  


“Yeah, the bible. She’s flung herself into religion all over again. It happened once when I was younger. I went to visit her one weekend and there she was, permed hair and immaculate make up, preaching to me about the second coming.”

  
  


“Jesus…”

  
  


“Exactly,” Mike rolled his eyes.

  
  


“Sorry,” I paused, “So what now?”

  
  


Mike shrugged and fiddled with the binding of his notebook, “I cross my fingers. As much as it scares me to say, the bible bashing version of my Mom is a lot better than the drug addicted shadow of a Mom. God,” he sighed dramatically, “Why can’t I just have a normal family?” he laughed.

  
  


“I think that’s everyone’s wish. So is she alright? I mean, she’s not about to flip her lid or anything?”

  
  


“Who knows. She cooked me dinner for the first time in my life though,” he smiled, “I’ve learnt not to be too optimistic though. Who knows what mood she’ll wake up as tomorrow?”

  
  


“So, you think you’ll be staying at mine for a while longer?” I asked attentively.

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike smiled with a nod, “I’d really like that. It sounds selfish of me but I don’t think I could do with anymore of that Christianity crap. Beats being shouted at and called a whore but she seemed content enough when I left her. I’m so fucking tired,” he sighed, “I just need a break,” his voice drifted off.

  
  


“I know you do,” I whispered, “You’ve been through a lot over the past week. You are still meant to be resting, remember?”

  
  


“Reminds me,” he smiled weakly, “I’m a shit friend, I know I am.”

  
  


I frowned about to protest before he leant down and picked his record bag up from the floor. Hoisting it up onto the bed I watched him fumbling through the contents before his hands finally wrapped around whatever he’d been looking for, which, it turned out were two small packages wrapped in blue holographic paper.

  
  


“Belated,” he paused, passing me the parcels, “But still with as much love. I’m so sorry for what happened on your birthday Chaz.”

  
  


“Hey,” I smiled, “It’s alright, okay? It’s over now and you’re here, that’s the main thing,” I smiled as I began to unwrap the slightly larger of the two presents.

  
  


The foil paper fell to the bed beneath me as I unfolded the bright pink T-Shirt that had been hiding inside; the words ‘fucking rockstars’ printed on the front in black stencil.

  
  


“It’s for when we make it big,” he smiled, “I do listen to what you say, despite what you might think and you’re right, we are gonna make it. One day.”

  
  


“We better,” I grinned, “Now you’ve gone to all the trouble of making me my very own fan shirt,” I smiled as I picked up the second gift and removed the paper to reveal a jewel cd case.

  
  


I opened it up, eyes scanning over the pattern that Mike had scribed onto the CD inside which he’d titled ‘I think I love you more than I love Nas’. My eyes scanned over the track listing and I knew I’d be falling asleep with it on later that night.

  
  


“Thank you Mike,” I smiled, suddenly a little overcome with emotions as all the ‘what ifs’ and ‘whys’ bounced back at me, but, as I looked up and saw him I managed to shun the worries away.

  
  


He was safe, he was still alive and I had the opportunity to help him through whatever was breaking him up inside. I threw my arms around him, embracing him in a bear hug.

  
  


“So, was he good?” Mike murmured in my ear.

  
  


“Oi you fuck,” I shook my head, breaking the hug, “You so broke a good moment there,” I joked.

  
  


“And you so avoided the question,” he smirked.

  
  


“Smart ass. Yes, he was good thank you very much.”

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“Yeah?” I was the one to smirk this time as I raised my eyebrows.

  
  


“Chester’s shagging the bass player,” Mike mocked in a sing song voice.

  
  


“Oh kiss my ass,” I retorted, “Get over it. Can we write some lyrics please? Brad’s been breathing down my neck all day about deadlines and how we need more material for these upcoming gigs,” I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a pen.

  
  


“Will these songs be taking a new direction?” Mike smiled, “How about some odes to ginger haired bassists?”

  
  


“Fuck  _off_. Besides, it’s not ginger it’s auburn.”

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


“That, if I do say so myself was brilliant,” Joe beamed from the deckchair he was sitting on in the corner of Phi’s garage; bottle of beer in one hand and a Marlboro Light in the other, “I’ve got some really good samples that would work so well with that. Especially during the chorus when Chester’s shouting like a maniac. You know, for two people that share so much distain for one another, your voice really goes well with Brad’s guitar,” Joe mused out aloud.

  
  


“Thanks,” I nodded, grabbing a bottle of water and downing almost all of it in one go.

  
  


Mike stood his guitar down in it’s stand and ran a hand through his sweat drenched hair. I staggered over to Joe and flopped down onto his lap, yawning and stretching my arms above my head.

  
  


“So do we have a name for that one yet?” Rob asked from behind the drum kit, referring to the song we’d just belted out five times in attempts to get it almost pitch perfect.

  
  


“How about ‘untitled’?” Mike mused out loud, shrugging his shoulders.

  
  


“Which roughly translates to a big fat no,” I nodded.

  
  


“Well if anyone wants to crash here then that’s fine by me,” Phoenix noted, noticed by my paranoia as not even looking in my direction once as he stepped through the doorway into the kitchen.

  
  


“Thanks,” Rob nodded, “Think I’ll take you up on that.”

  
  


“Yeah me too,” Brad called as he leant down to pack his beloved cobalt blue Ibanez away in its case.

  
  


“You stopping?” I asked Mike and Joe as I got up from the latter’s lap and heard him sigh an ‘oomph’ of relief.

  
  


“Yes, you heavy bugger,” Joe whined rubbing his legs over dramatically, “For such a skinny person you don’t half weigh a ton…”

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


“I need to go and get some smokes,” he told me.

  
  


“Cool, I’ll come with,” I nodded, patting my pockets down in search of my wallet.

  
  


“It’s alright, I’ll pick some up from the store for you too. I have a couple of other places I need to go too,” he said, lowering his voice and suddenly finding the floor a very interesting place to stare.

  
  


“Mike… I thought that you weren’t going to be doing drugs anymore?” I frowned as Joe disappeared through the door.

  
  


“I’m only getting some weed,” he paused, “Beside, quitting isn’t just going to happen overnight.”

  
  


“Give me a hand here Brad,” I sighed to the guitarist who was snapping shut the clasps on his case.

  
  


“I’m on your side,” he muttered shaking his head, “It’s up to Mike here if he wants to pay the price,” he paused glaring in his direction, “Y’know, headaches, hangovers amongst  _other_  things.”

  
  


“The only thing around here that gives me a headache is you Brad,” Mike chirped, watching as he rolled his eyes and sloped off into the kitchen, “Sorry Chester but if I don’t get some weed then I won’t be sleeping tonight. You of all people know how it is.”

  
  


“Fine,” I sighed, “I’ll come with you though, I could do with some fresh air.”

  
  


“Okay,” he nodded, “I just need to get my bag.”

  
  


A sigh escaped my lips as he headed inside the house and I was left nervously fiddling with my fingers. What was it going to take to make Mike see that he was in need of some help? All that seemed to surround him was a big, fat cloud of denial though. And all I could do was stand back and pretend it wasn’t happening.

  
  


“I like the shirt.”

  
  


I looked up at the sound of Phi’s voice to see him standing in the doorway.

  
  


“Mike made it,” I smiled, peeling it off and replacing it with my jacket. I bent down to grab my bag and folded the shirt up, carefully wedging it behind an old demo cd.

  
  


“Suits you,” he nodded, “Does it mean rock stars are fuckers or that you’re fucking them?” he smiled.

  
  


“You decide,” I told him as Mike appeared behind him, “You ready?”

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


“We’re just going to get some smokes and maybe some food,” I told Phi coolly as I brushed past him and slung my bag over my shoulder, “Want anything?”

  
  


“Nah I’m cool.”

  
  


“Okay, see you in a bit,” I nodded as I followed Mike down the hallway and out of the front door.

  
  


It was almost midnight yet the air was warm and we walked down the street in silence, my feet scuffing at the sidewalk. A couple of blocks into our walk, Mike finally broke the silence as we turned a corner and crossed the road.

  
  


“Sorry I snapped at you before,” he sighed as we reached the other side of the street and slipped down an alleyway that ran between two houses.

  
  


“It’s alright. I shouldn’t be interfering really.”

  
  


“You’re not. I appreciate your concern Chester, I really do but I don’t have a drug problem.”

  
  


I didn’t answer because I wasn’t entirely convinced, and by the sounds of it neither was Mike. I just didn’t feel like yelling at him though because what was I supposed to say? Yes Mike you do have a drug problem, one that you’re failing badly to hide from me anymore. You overdosed on cocaine and ecstasy last week and despite your protests I still think it was deliberate.

  
  


The alleyway led to a tenement building very much like the one Mike lived in, only with trees and a children’s playground in it’s forecourt and less graffiti which gave it a more homely and less unsavoury feel. Looks however, were always deceptive.

  
  


“I have to go in,” Mike told me as we came to a stop by the children’s swings, “You can wait here if you like. I shouldn’t be too long,” he smiled, glancing up to the grey building before us.

  
  


I wasn’t exactly happy about watching my best friend as he walked away and into the entrance hall, disappearing inside the block of flats where his dealer obviously resided. I didn’t get much chance to protest, the ‘Don’t you want me to come with you’ lodging inside my throat as soon as he turned and walked away. Beside, it was only weed that he’d gone into get and I myself had been in similar places several times before to buy myself a nice fat bag of the green stuff.

  
  


Yet as I sat down on one of the swings and couldn’t help but feel like the word ‘gullible’ had floated out of the dictionary and attached itself to my forehead, along with a few other adjectives such as ‘idiotic’ and ‘foolish’. I began to swing back and forth, kicking my legs out and drawing them back as my hands tightened their grip on the chains. It had been a good few years since I’d been on a swing, the last time probably with Mike when we’d gotten very drunk and found ourselves in the adventure playground behind my house. We more than likely woke the whole neighbourhood up with our drunken screaming and giggling and the higher I swung, the more I wanted to be back in that time because three years made a lot of difference.

  
  


I should be happy, I thought as I lurched forward and was able to see a light flickering on inside one of the apartments. I should be in my element because my band just got signed and everything I’ve worked at for so long is finally starting to happen. I should be dancing inside because I finally got together with Phoenix and who cared if he just acted like nothing had happened; maybe, just maybe after all these years I’m finally getting over Josh. But, as I watched two shadowy figures moving in the light filled apartment, I felt nothing more than an acute wave of misery washing over me.

  
  


I slowed the swing down, my feet scraping against the asphalt beneath me until I was just sitting and staring up at the apartments before me. My gaze fell to the neon filled window, frown easing over my face as I watched one of the shadows slamming the other against a wall, an audible scream filling my ears as the smaller figure was pushed to the floor. Another scream drifted from the open window, a familiar one at that and suddenly I was on my feet and racing toward the door before my mind could even register what was happening.

  
  


The elevators were predictably jammed and as my feet raced up the stairs I was mentally counting how many floors up I actually needed to go. Three, maybe four, is what I was concluding as I spun further up the spiral staircase and onto the second floor, guided only by the screams; Mike’s screams that seemed to be getting louder.

  
  


The door that led to the third floor was a heavy metal affair and it took some strength to pull it open. My aching legs carried me down the badly lit corridor, screams now turning into cries. I wondered why none of the other residents were racing in the same direction as me, but quickly concluded that fear or the fact it were more than likely a regular occurrence were the main reasons they stopped inside their apartments with music systems and televisions turned up loud and drowning out the noises.

  
  


I finally reached a red painted door slightly ajar, number five seven nine, with footmarks against the frame. It was definitely this one. I pushed the door open, almost retching at the smell that emitted from within; a damp and dusty stench heavily scented with weed that was quick to overpower my senses.

  
  


“Little fucker. That’s two hundred dollars your Mom owes me. Fuck, I can’t believe you. Coming here and asking for some weed when she owes me fucking money. I swear to God if I knew where she lived these days that she’d be fucking spitting up daises. Whore. Shame about all these bruises on you huh? You piss someone else off did you?”

  
  


“Shit, I think you’ve hurt him enough Ed, get off him already,” another voice rang out.

  
  


I flinched as I tiptoed down the hallway, my heart fitfully racing as I pushed open what I assumed to be the bedroom door where a trickle of light and the rage filled shouts were pouring from. My breath was knocked away as my eyes were met with a thirty something tattoo filled guy pinning Mike down to the bed beneath him. Another scrawnier guy, owner of the second voice was crouched on the floor over a line of shimmering white powder. Mike’s eyes widened as they caught sight of me and in a matter of seconds the big burly excuse for a man was staring back at me too.

  
  


“Get the fuck off him,” I hissed, inching closer and grabbing a conveniently placed baseball bat, the one which the fucker had no doubt used to sock Mike across the mouth with, by the looks of the blood that was spilling from his face.

  
  


“Fuck Ed,” his friend gasped, suddenly jumping away from his cocaine, eyes wide and hands wiping at his nose.

  
  


To my surprise Ed was quick to scramble away, wrapping the sheets around his body. Mike quickly pulled up his pants and got to his feet.

  
  


“I’m not finished with him,” Ed growled, edging toward a desk in the corner of the room his scrawny excuse for an accomplish twitching nervously as Ed’s hand snaked inside one of the drawers.

  
  


“Fuck Ed NO, not the fucking gun Ed damit…”

  
  


“Like I said,” Ed’s voice growled, “I’m not finished with…”

  
  


“Yes you fucking are,” I hissed, “Mike get out of here.”

  
  


“He’s got a gun…”

  
  


“I said get out.”

  
  


Mike’s footsteps faded away as he slipped out of the room and I inched myself closer, grip tightening on the baseball bat. Ed’s hands inched further into one of the drawers but before he could grab what he was hunting for I’d swung the bat back and crashed it against his skull. He fell to the floor with a sickening crunch as his head smacked the wooden floorboards beneath him and seconds later his friend fainted, collapsing ungracefully at his side all the colour having drained from his face.. Suddenly aware of what I’d done, I felt the bat clattering to the floor and turned on my feet, racing out behind Mike as quick as I possibly could.

  
  


I could hardly breathe as Mike’s hand grabbed mine and he pulled me with him down the dank corridor and back down the twisting metal stairs. The air outside now felt cold and sticky as it hit our bodies when they dived out of the building doors.

  
  


I don’t know how long we were running for, our feet thundering along sidewalks and splashing into muddy puddles. All I could see was that strangers head smacking against the floor and cracking open, the image alone was enough to occupy my thoughts and steer my mind away from the fact that I could hardly breathe and my legs weren’t wanting to carry me much further. My eyes were open yet I could see nothing except his dirty hands all over my best friend, whose own hand was clutched around mine and pulling me away from it all.

  
  


Mike pulled me into a passageway and finally coming to a stop, I leant back against a cold wall, closing my eyes as I tried to catch my breath. When I slowly blinked them open I looked around, realising that we’d run a good four or five blocks away and were standing breathless between the general store and a Chinese Takeout. I slumped to the floor, my elbows scraping against the wall behind me before I collapsed and blearily looked up at Mike who slowly sat down beside me, split lip and bloodstained face staring back at me like he didn’t quite know what to say. I didn’t blame him though. I wouldn’t have known what, exactly, to say if my best friend had just become overpowered by utter rage and knocked someone out cold.

  
  


Congratulations?


	7. Into where

“How are you feeling?”

  
  


“Numb. You?”

  
  


“I’m not sure,” Mike whispered in response to my question, “I am so sorry.”

  
  


I couldn’t seem to find a reply within me so I just lay in silence and stared up at my bedroom ceiling that hadn’t seemed to stop spinning for the last two hours. Mike and I had barely spoken since brushing ourselves off and taking the long walk home to my place. The calm night sky and soft breeze that had brushed through our tired bodies had done little to ease the tension. After sneaking in through my bedroom window like a couple of teenagers and tiptoeing around so as not to wake anyone up I had called Phi and told him Mike wasn’t feeling one hundred percent so we’d decided to call it a night. He’d sounded slightly disappointed but that was the least of my worries and as I lay on my back, freshly showered and clothed in an old T-Shirt and faded pajama pants, I wished that was  _all_  my worries were.

  
  


Mike fidgeted beside me and I turned to look at his badly cut face. I’d cleaned it up the best I could with shaking hands and a bottle of ointment. I’d spent the first half of the walk home trying to persuade him that a trip to the hospital would be the best thing. He’d flat out refused, so far as to walk off in the opposite direction at one point. I figured, however, that he was hurting a lot more on the inside than he was on the outside. I should have felt so damn angry with him, yet I felt anything but that towards him. Disappointment, confusion, despair even, but no anger.

  
  


“What are you thinking?” he asked me.

  
  


“Lots of things,” I whispered, “Like, what the hell were you doing back there?”

  
  


“I’m sorry.”

  
  


“I know you are but that doesn’t answer my question. I need you to be honest.”

  
  


“I’ve known him since I was fourteen,” Mike started and I rolled onto my side, facing him to catch his softly spoken words.

  
  


“He shacked up with my mom for a while, got her hooked on crack cocaine, got me hooked on weed. When he left my mom, he gave me a contact number and told me I could call him whenever I needed a fix of something. That’s how it’s been ever since. At first he felt sorry for me, gave me the odd joint for free… Then I started sleeping with him, I was on and off for a few years. Then just before I met you and I had the job working tills at the store, he started asking for money instead, which I was pretty relieved about. You know things got bad over Christmas with my mom? Turns out she decided to pay him a visit and told him that I’d be round to settle the money. Guess she forgot to tell me that,” Mike sighed, “When I got up there just now he was off his head. I only wanted a joint or two to get me through the week. He was shouting at me and telling me that I more than owed him and before I knew it he was…” Mike shut his mouth and a lone tear slid down his cheek.

  
  


“Ssh,” I soothed, sliding my arms around him and pulling him into a tight embrace, “It’s alright. He won’t be hurting you anymore,” I gulped, a sense of panic running through me, “I’m sure of that.”

  
  


“I’m so sorry though,” he sobbed, “I didn’t mean for any of that to happen…”

  
  


“I know you didn’t,” I whispered, rocking him in my arms, “I know you didn’t. Listen Mike,” I paused and slowly pulled away, keeping my arms around him, “I need you to be honest.”

  
  


He nodded his head.

  
  


“Did he… did he rape you?”

  
  


Mike closed his eyes and nodded his head once more as fresh tears trickled down his bruised face. I felt my heart momentarily stop. Why didn’t I go inside with him? Why did I let him go in the first place? Why was I such a lousy fucking friend who had taken so long to put together the pieces to the puzzle that was Mike Shinoda?

  
  


“Are you hurting?” I asked, realising what a pathetically dumb question that was. Of course he was hurting yet contrary to my thoughts, Mike was shaking his head.

  
  


“I’m used to it,” he whispered solemnly, opening his eyes and blinking back the tears.

  
  


“You mean, he’s done this before?”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Then what?”

  
  


“It’s happened before,” he told me.

  
  


“Do you mean when you were younger?” I asked, feeling strangely like he was inviting me behind one of the many walls he’d built up so long ago.

  
  


“Not just then.”

  
  


“Recently?”

  
  


He nodded his head before burying himself in my arms.

  
  


Oh God.

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


“I don’t think I can take anymore,” he whispered.

  
  


If there was ever a time in my life when I found myself utterly speechless beyond belief, then this sure as hell was it. I was fumbling for questions, trying to grasp onto coherent words, but Mike had rendered me speechless.

  
  


“W… What do you mean?” I finally uttered, my hands gingerly rubbing his back.

  
  


“Nothing,” he murmured, visibly clamming up.

  
  


“Nothing?” I echoed in disbelief, “Mike, has this happened before or not?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


A formidable silence followed, enveloping my senses. My best friend of five years was frankly confusing the hell out of me and I wasn’t sure whether he was inviting me to probe the subject further or if I should just let him tell me in his own good time what exactly the traumas he’d kept hidden to himself were. I found myself thankful when his voice bravely carried on.

  
  


“He’s always there,” he whispered, “When I close my eyes, he’s there. I used to think that would make him disappear but it doesn’t. So, I open my eyes and there he is, every _fucking_ where.”

  
  


As he paused I felt him shaking but with fear or anger, I wasn’t sure. All I was sure of was that for the first time in what felt like ages, Mike was finally opening up to me again. I gently squeezed his hand reassuringly, as I waited for him to continue.

  
  


“He doesn’t mean it,” Mike sighed, “That’s the worst part of it all. He doesn’t mean to hurt me, but that’s all he does.”

  
  


“Who?” I whispered, “Who are you talking about?”

  
  


Mike shifted uncomfortably beside me, scrunching his eyes up and shaking his head. More tears were spilling from beneath his eyelids, trickling down his cheeks and soaking into the pillowcase beneath his head.

  
  


“I… He…” Mike stopped and opened his eyes, “I’m sorry.”

  
  


“What? What for?”

  
  


“For being like this,” he sighed, sniffing as he released his hand from mine and vigorously wiped his tears away, “For being a wreck.”

  
  


“You’re apologising?” I murmured, “That’s ridiculous. You’ve just been -”

  
  


“Don’t,” Mike cut in immediately, “I don’t need reminding.”

  
  


“You can’t run away from it.”

  
  


“You think I don’t realise that?” he scoffed.

  
  


“So you’d rather turn away, pretend it’s not happened? And what about that asshole, hey? Are you going to let him get away with it? I swear to God I could have  _killed_  that fucking bastard.”

  
  


Mike’s eyes grew wide, as did mine. I took a deep breath and let one heavy sigh escape from my lips. I could have  _killed_  him. Never in my life had I felt such hatred and ill feeling towards someone. I could have literally smashed his skull into tiny pieces and as I lay back down, trying to slow my breathing, it suddenly panicked me that I very nearly did.

  
  


“Sorry,” I whispered, “I shouldn’t have said that.”

  
  


“No,” Mike sighed, “It’s true. Sometimes turning away is so much easier than facing the truth though, don’t you think?”

  
  


“It is at first. But not in the long run.”

  
  


“What if the long run never happens though?”

  
  


“What do you mean?”

  
  


“Well, what if the thing you’re running away from never catches up with you?”

  
  


“It always does.”

  
  


“You think?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “Everything catches up with you in the end. Unless you’re one hell of a cowardly son of a bitch and you, you aren’t that, Mike.”

  
  


“I am.”

  
  


“Not.”

  
  


“I am, Chester,” he told me with an air of certainty.

  
  


“Well I don’t think you are,” I sighed as a yawn escaped my lips.

  
  


“What time is it?”

  
  


“Late,” I yawned again as I craned my neck to look at the clock on the wall, “Half past four. Look are you sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?”

  
  


“No,” he shook his head, “I’m fine.”

  
  


“You’re not.”

  
  


“Like I said, it’s nothing new.”

  
  


“And what exactly is that supposed to mean Mike? You keep telling me that and then pushing me away when I question you. I’m trying my hardest here Mike. I’m not going to fucking hurt you.”

  
  


“Then give me some time,” he whispered, his voice undoubtedly tinged with fear, “Please Chester?”

  
  


“Maybe we should sleep,” I sighed and pulled the covers closer around us.

  
  


He didn’t answer as he rolled away, turning his back to me and I wasn’t quite sure what else to say. The sound of cars hurtling down the freeway few and far between diffused my thoughts and as I felt sleep finally tugging at my eyes I couldn’t help but murmur the words that I always seemed to be telling him these days; words that I’d told Josh so very often.

  
  


“I’m always here,” I whispered faintly, “Don’t forget it…”

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


My sleep was plagued with nightmares; visions of a bloodied skull as it cracked against wooden floorboards and oozed crimson tinged sticky liquid which, when I lo oked down at my shaking hands, was trickling down my wrists, sliding along the floor and enveloping my body as I collapsed to my knees. Needless to say, I woke up with a start and a pounding sensation deep within my head. I rubbed at my eyes as the onslaught of a migraine began to kick in. I hadn’t had one in ages, in fact, it had been a good few years since my migraines had kept me bed ridden and hiding under my pillow for days on end. I only prayed they weren’t making a comeback.

  
  


When I finally woke up properly and my eyes had grown accustomed to the light surrounding me, I was fast to realise that the spot beside me was empty - except for a deep patch of red that had soaked into the sheets where Mike had fallen asleep.

  
  


Oh  _shit_.

  
  


I scrambled to my feet, shoved on my glasses and found my eyes drawn to the patch of sticky blood once again. I didn’t need to touch it to know that it was still wet. Grabbing a sweater, I was already racing out of my bedroom before I’d even pulled it over my head.

  
  


The house was quiet, the bathroom empty. I carried on down the hallway and stepped into the kitchen greeted by the faint smell of bacon that had been cooking a few hours earlier. The clock above the stove was telling me that it was eleven thirty and a note tacked to the fridge said that everyone was out; Dad at work, the others out at the supermarket. I stopped at the sink, running a shaky hand through my hair.

  
  


Where the hell was Mike?

  
  


It didn’t actually take me that long to find him when I stepped outside onto the veranda and saw Mike in the distance, sitting on a swing at the very bottom of the garden. His back was turned to me as he swung gently back and forth, a cigarette in one hand sending spirals of grey smoke up into the cloudy sky. I needn’t have panicked so much and was busy telling myself that as I crossed the dewy grass and walked over to Mike. He didn’t notice me at first and I stood beside him, watching for a few minutes as he puffed nervously on his cigarette and gazed out onto the houses that sprawled themselves out beneath us.

  
  


After a few minutes I cleared my throat, unintentionally causing Mike to jump a little, his eyes wide as he turned to face me.

  
  


“Sorry,” I smiled softly, “How are you?”

  
  


He shrugged, “I’m alright I guess, you?”

  
  


“Worried,” I sighed.

  
  


“He… Ed won’t come after you, if that’s what you’re worried about. He’s clueless, he’s not into picking fights, as long as he has enough money to buy some dope then he’s no harm.”

  
  


“No harm? The guy raped you Mike, he was about to pull a gun on me and actually, he was the least of my worries,” I paused, “Mike I think you should go to the hospital.”

  
  


“Chester,” Mike sighed, “There’s no need. Honestly.”

  
  


“Well the blood on my bed sheets tells me otherwise.”

  
  


Mike paled.

  
  


“It won’t take long and they won’t ask too many questions. I’ll take you in, we’ll tell them you were attacked and they’ll check you out. Look, I‘m not asking you to go to the Police or anything.”

  
  


“I’m fine,” Mike stopped to take a drag from his cigarette, “I’m just a little sore but it’ll fade after a few days, it always does,” he uttered the last part quietly.

  
  


“Please?” I moved in front of him, crouched down on the damp grass and steadied the swing with my hand, “Mike I won’t be able to live with myself if I don’t take you,” I told him, “I know for a fact that he wasn’t using protection. Fuck, you could be infected or…”

  
  


“I can’t,” Mike shook his head, “I have no money remember?”

  
  


“Then I’ll lend you some, write you a cheque…”

  
  


“There’s no need Chaz. I mean thanks and everything but,” he paused, “Can we just forget this ever happened?”

  
  


“Is that what you do every time something bad happens?”

  
  


“I thought you knew me better than yourself,” Mike murmured, barely glancing up at me.

  
  


I sighed, not feeling like a response was inside my head and instead chose to gaze at the forlorn form beside me. He stared back for a while then turned his head to the side, absently watching the kid next door who had just appeared from the garage with a ball which he was thumping up and down against the fence.

  
  


“This needs to be sorted out,” I sighed again, my hands lacing themselves around the ropes of the swing, “Before you get hurt even more. I love you Mike, that’s why I’m gonna tell you this,” I paused as he finally looked back at me, “I’m here for you, whenever you need me so stop being an asshole and tell me what the fuck is going on.”

  
  


Mike shook his head, a wry smile appearing across his face, “Fuck you,” he uttered, “I’m not being an asshole, I’m…”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“Forget it,” he hissed, sliding down from the seat of the swing, “Forget everything that happened. It’s insignificant.”

  
  


He stood before me, eyes level with mine and I remember thinking ‘fuck this is the first time we’ve ever argued this bad’ but my thoughts were cut short by fact that Mike’s eyes had started to slowly flutter shut and within seconds he had collapsed against the ground.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Carrying Mike back inside and laying him down on my bed was no struggle considering the amount of times I’d carried his drunken body before. His eyes fluttered open just as I’d grabbed my cell phone and was keying in 911.

  
  


“Ssh,” I whispered, “I’m just ringing an ambulance and…”

  
  


“No,” Mike groaned, his hand grabbing onto mine.

  
  


“Mike you just fainted and…”

  
  


“Please don’t.”

  
  


I sighed and reluctantly cleared the digits from my cell phone’s screen before placing it down on my desk.

  
  


“I’m fine Chester,” Mike’s voice rattled my thoughts, “I wish you’d believe me.”

  
  


“It’s kinda hard to Mike,” I sighed, sitting down beside him and nervously catching his fingers between mine, “When you look like death and all…”

  
  


“I’m fine,” Mike repeated, squeezing my hand, “I’m just a little tired, that’s all.”

  
  


We were interrupted by the shrill tone of the doorbell.

  
  


“Well sleep then,” I hushed, placing a kiss on his forehead.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I paused as I reached the doorway, “Yeah?”

  
  


“You won’t tell anyone about any of this will you?”

  
  


“No. I promise,” I nodded.

  
  


I turned away and padded down the hallway, brushing a hand through my messy hair as I unlocked the front door and opened it to reveal, Brad of all people.

  
  


“Hey,” he greeted me.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


“Is Mike here? Only, we were supposed to meet earlier and he never showed. Figured he might be here.”

  
  


“Yeah he is,” I paused, “He’s not feeling too good though, he’s sleeping. Come on in though,” I motioned standing aside so he could get in, “Phi’s supposed to be coming in a while; we can work on those songs if you want?”

  
  


“Sure,” Brad nodded as I shut the door and left him gazing around the hallway.

  
  


It was possibly the third, if only the second time Brad had come around - the last time being when he’d dropped in on Mike without a word - very much the way he was now.

  
  


“Uh - go on into my room if you want, just don’t wake him yeah? I need to use the bathroom.”

  
  


“Cool,” Brad smiled.

  
  


I carried on down the hallway and locked myself in the bathroom for some much needed alone time. Stripping from my nightclothes I filled the bathtub with hot water and poured in some of my favourite pink rose bath foam which I got my mother to buy me in secret. What? I had my masculinity to keep intact. Sure, I was gay as they came and proud of it but I was so without being camp, overusing words such as ‘dahhling’ and ‘babe’ and parading the fact that yes, from time to time I was a little effeminate and a total diva.

  
  


By the time I’d soaked myself in pink rose heaven, washed my hair twice and sunk under the water with my eyes closed for several moments it was past midday and the sound of doors opening and incessant chatter told me my mom and the others were back home with their shopping. I dried and slipped into some clean clothes, slinging my pyjamas into the laundry basket before I made my way back into my bedroom.

  
  


The sight that greeted me momentarily caught me off guard. Brad Delson, the biggest homophobic loser of them all, sitting cross legged on my bed and stroking Mike’s hair. He had his back to me and was whispering something in Mike’s ear; words I strained to hear as I lingered in the doorway.

  
  


“You’ve been avoiding me haven’t you?”

  
  


There was a strange edge to Brad’s voice, something eerily sugar soft; something I’d not seen from him before.

  
  


“You can’t keep doing this. You  _know_  I need you around…”

  
  


Shit.

  
  


I back pedaled, almost knocking my sister over as I collided with her, knocking the contents of her shopping bag to the floor. A couple of magazines and candy bars rolled across the wooden floor and Brad was quick to jump to his feet, eyes darting toward me and Mel as I helped her pick up the copies of  _Cosmo_  and  _Seventeen_  that had scattered themselves at my feet.

  
  


“Sorry sis,” I smiled.

  
  


“S’ok dumbass, you can’t help but be clumsy.”

  
  


“Yeah…” I paused as she headed off down the hallway and glanced up at Brad whose icy cold stare was piercing into my eyes.

  
  


“Phi called,” Brad suddenly spoke, “He suggested a band practice at his place tonight. He can’t make a get together here, says he’s taking his girl out for lunch…”

  
  


Ouch.

  
  


“Okay,” I nodded, trying not to feel too dejected by that notion.

  
  


“Well, I should get going and all. I’ll see you two later, around seven?”

  
  


“Sure.”

  
  


There was an edge of awkwardness as Brad brushed past me on his way out and it wasn’t until the door shut behind him that I realised Mike was sitting up with bleary eyes and frowning at me.

  
  


“Hey,” I smiled, stepping inside my room, “Feeling any better?”

  
  


“Yeah,” he nodded.

  
  


“What did Brad want?” I asked, crossing my room and opening the window.

  
  


I lit up a cigarette and idly flicked the ash out into the yard.

  
  


“He just came by to see if we’d be around Phi’s house later.”

  
  


“Right,” I nodded vacantly, “What did he mean exactly?” I asked with a frown as I turned to face Mike.

  
  


“…”

  
  


“I just heard him asking why you’ve been avoiding him. Don’t tell me, he’s being an awkward and intolerable asshole again?”

  
  


Mike smiled softly, “Something like that,” he paused, “We’ve not really spoken since I drank my body weight in alcohol and ended up in hospital.”

  
  


“Speaking of, are you sure you don’t want me to take you…”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Fine, fine,” I sighed, “Just don’t come crying to me when you realise you’ve contracted some STI.”

  
  


“Chaz, it’s not going to come to that,” Mike hushed me.

  
  


“Sorry. I’m just…”

  
  


“Worried. I know you are but you needn’t be.”

  
  
  


+

  
  
  
  


I cooked rice and peas for lunch - about as far as my culinary skills would stretch. Mike and I sat together on the veranda with our bowls, forks clanking against their sides as we watched the day go by and I struggled with myself and tried so hard to keep my mouth closed. But how could I? How could I stay silent after the turmoil that had unfolded in the past twenty four hours. To keep quiet and forget what had happened would do Mike no good. To speak up and talk things over it seemed would only hurt Mike furthermore. I was most certainly going through a bad case of being stuck between a rock and hard place.

  
  


It was getting late and after avoiding the concerned looks my Mother had graced my way, Mike and I had resigned to my bedroom once again and we lay like many other times haphazardly across the sheets with various pens and notebooks scattered out in front of us. I’d not had the mindset to actually write anything though and Mike seemed to be sharing a similar vacant expression as he gazed absently at a blank page in his notebook.

  
  


I lazily picked it up and flicked through it, my eyes finally stopping on the first page. It contained the first ever song we’d written together, partly in Mike’s neat type; the rest in my scrawled excuse for handwriting. The pen was smudged here and there, the margin scattered with smiley faces and the CND logo. I closed my eyes and rested my head against the palms of my hands, I thought about the lazy summer that the pair of us met and I felt an ache in my heart…

  
  
  
  


_“You’ll just be doing general duties, such as shelf stacking and bag packing for the first few days. We’ll get you trained up on the tills once you’ve settled in. Oh, and here’s another member of the team that you’ll be working with a lot,” The blonde haired lady who had just introduced herself as ‘Pat, the long suffering manager of ‘Pat’s Baskets’’ smiled at me as we stopped in an aisle full of frozen produce. Her more than ample bosom heaved before my eyes the moment her arms gestured to a young guy._

  
  


_“This is Mike,” she smiled, “He’ll be showing you the ropes,” she paused, “Mike, this is Chester.”_

  
  


_My eyes stared. Standing before me was an incredibly beautiful young man, probably no older than myself, with messy bleached hair and the most amazing ebony coloured eyes. My voice seemed to get lodged in my throat as he held his hand out and I took it, shaking it gently and returning his smile._

  
  


_“Hey,” Mike smiled, “Welcome to hell.”_

  
  


_Pat whacked him upside the head in a jovial manner before glancing at the white wrist watch on her perma tanned arm._

  
  


_“Well Michael, you know your duties. I have to be outta here for my hair appointment,” she paused with a wink as she twisted a strand of peroxide induced hair around her pinkie, “Get Chester an apron and show him the ropes. I’ll see you both later…”_

  
  


_She was gone in a flash, almost like a puff of air had whisked her away and all that was left behind was the faint scent of her cheap perfume; something that the fish in the freezer behind me were fast to overpower._

  
  


_“Well, come out the back and I’ll show you where you need to keep your bag and shit,” Mike nodded, leading me through a maze of aisles housing everything from cereals to magazines to garden tools and condoms._

  
  


_We finally reached a beat up door, flaked paint hanging loosely off it with a rusted sign that read ‘Staff Only’ nailed to the front. He pushed it open and I was met by a much welcome whoosh of fresh air. Letting the door click shut behind us, he flicked on a light to illuminate a large room filled with rows and rows of boxes which he led me through. Once we’d navigated those, we came to a battered couch beside a fridge and a kettle and then a row of pegs. Mike unhooked a shabby looking apron from one of the pegs, absently kicking open the fire exit door as he did so._

  
  


_“Here,” he smiled, “It’s Rob’s, who,” he paused, motioning behind the door, “Is incidentally out here on his forth cigarette break of the day.”_

  
  


_“Third you idiot,” A voice retorted from outside, followed by a pale, tall boy who stuck his head around the battered door, “Hey,” he smiled, “Want a smoke?”_

  
  


_“No he doesn’t want a smoke,” Mike chipped in, rolling his eyes at me, “Some of us are actually here to work.”_

  
  


_“Oh hail the slave driver,” Rob laughed, “If you ever want smokes buddy then I’m your man,” Rob winked cheekily, “If you however prefer the harder stuff, then Michael here…”_

  
  


_“Yes thank you,” Mike groaned, kicking the door shut, “Sorry about him. Younger brother syndrome or something.”_

  
  


_“He’s… he’s your brother?”_

  
  


_“Oh fuck no,” Mike laughed, passing me the apron, “He just likes to act like it. Annoy the hell out of me.”_

  
  


_“Oh right,” I nodded, tying the apron around my waist._

  
  


_“You nervous?”_

  
  


_“A little…”_

  
  


_“Don’t be. This job’s a piece of piss.”_

  
  


_I smiled._

  
  


_“You worked before?”_

  
  


_“Sort of,” I murmured._

  
  


_“Cool,” Mike paused, “You know, I think we’re going to get on,” he grinned._

  
  


_I couldn’t help but return his smile. I’m not sure if it was because this was the first time I’d stepped outside since Josh had died or because I felt a spark of warmth within me as Mike brushed past me - I just knew that from that day on we were going to share something special._

  
  
  
  


“Hey. Loser.”

  
  


I was jolted from my thoughts by Mike’s voice and the sharp jab of his finger against my ribs. I slowly opened my eyes, rubbing them with the backs of my hands.

  
  


“Hmmm?” I asked sleepily.

  
  


“You totally spaced out there,” Mike told me.

  
  


“I was just thinking.”

  
  


“Yeah?” Mike asked, sliding down beside me, “What about?”

  
  


“You.”

  
  


Mike frowned, “Hmm is that a good thing or a bad thing?” he smiled.

  
  


“Totally bad,” I nodded with a smirk.

  
  


“So go on, share these bad thoughts,” he paused, “Wait bad as in bad or as in  _bad_?”

  
  


“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just thinking about when we first met.”

  
  


“Yeah?” Mike smiled, rolling onto his side, “Back in the day huh? When we were young and innocent.”

  
  


“Innocent?” I laughed, “When were you ever innocent?!”

  
  


“Before I met you. You corrupted me.”

  
  


“Oh as if. I think it was the other way around…”

  
  


I smiled and closed my eyes. I’d fleetingly forgotten last night’s madness. For a split second had it escaped my mind that I’d almost knocked a stranger unconscious - more so that I’d seen my best friend being raped…

  
  


“You know, I’m not really in the mood to go and practice tonight,” I sighed, suddenly overwhelmed by a racing mind and a shaky sensation flowing through my limbs.

  
  


“I’m glad you said that,” Mike murmured, distractedly gazing up at the ceiling.

  
  


“Okay, how about we get pizza and watch some gay film?” I smiled softly, hoping that in someway this might take Mike’s mind of things.

  
  


“Sounds great,” Mike smiled, “As long as you mean gay as in ‘crap’, rather than homosexual. I don’t think I can stomach watching any of your porn…”

  
  


“Pssh,” I stuck my tongue out, “I don’t own any…”

  
  


Mike smirked and raised his eyebrows because he knew as well as me that that wasn’t entirely true. And then I lay still for a while and stared at him because less than twenty four hours ago he’d been raped and here we were pushing it away and making jokes about gay porn. I swallowed hard and absently wondered how many other times it had been this way. How many other times had I tried to cheer Mike up, let him push his problems away. I was forever trying to help him forget but really, that wasn’t the way to go, was it?

  
  
  


+

  
  


I just wanted to make him smile, that’s all. At times like those I sometimes forgot that maybe tears shed because Mike was confiding in me were better than smiles shared because I was trying to make Mike happier. I wish I could’ve been a better friend.


	8. into where

Sweat dripped from my body as I clutched my microphone tightly. My back arched and I closed my eyes, blocking out the swaying crowds below; the razor hot sunrays;  _everything_  in sight. My heart seemed to have slowed down and was pounding in sync with the heavy beats bursting from Rob’s drum kit behind me, merging with the bass line erupting from Phi’s amps which were beneath my feet as I stood on the black boxes and sang my heart out.

  
  


“So here we are, glitter amongst stars, wanting to be pretty, forgetting who we are…”

  
  


I jumped back from the amps, my eyes opening as my scuffed Vans connected with the stage beneath me. Mike stood a couple of feet away from me with concentration etched upon his face as his fingers strummed rigorously against the strings of his guitar. The words fell from my mouth seamlessly, as if I couldn’t help but sing them once my ears had heard the first thrash of Rob’s symbol; the first chords of Mike and Brad’s guitars.

  
  


“We’re searching all so hard and looking all so suave, we’re wanting to be sexy, pretending to be stars…”

  
  


My feet carried me to the other side of the stage where Phi stood with shining eyes that gazed across the never ending sea of people; sun kissed bodies that swayed from side to side with waving hands and devils fingers. I shot him a smile as I brushed past him, turning my back on the crowd as the music built up and Joe’s heavy samples erupted from the speakers. I was lost in the music - our music - and nothing else mattered at that moment in time. My throat was dry and my lungs were craving oxygen but I kept on going, kept on moving, my feet dancing back over to Mike as the final chords of the song vibrated through my ears.

  
  


“Maybe someday we’ll tear off these facades? Maybe someday we’ll realise who we are…”

  
  


Rob’s sticks thrashed against the symbols; Mike’s fingers slid up and down the fret and I hurled my microphone to the floor, sending a giant crackling noise across the field of faces before us. The crowd cheered and I had to blink several times because I couldn’t quite believe the reception we were getting. Running a hand through my sweat drenched hair I turned to Mike who was standing behind me, dumbstruck as Brad and Phi began to hurl plectrums and water into the pit.

  
  


“Fuck…” Mike and I uttered in unison and then we were stumbling from the stage, being passed towels by random people; faces without names who were smiling and telling us how much we’d rocked? What? Had there been free crack with the tickets?

  
  


I had to pinch myself as I took one of the fluffy towels that a tall guy with bleached hair was passing me. This was the local Spring Festival that we’d played every year since forming and normally been met with gaping mouths, looks of distain and a few kids at the front drunkenly chanting for an encore? We even had a dressing room for God’s sake. Okay, so it was a dressing room that we reached after we stumbled down a makeshift corridor, an old toilet block that still had the sticky graffiti clinging to the walls and still  _stank_  like a toilet, but it was a dressing room nonetheless. Suddenly it felt like everything was finally starting to come together. We were signed to an independent label that was paying for us to make a demo disc. They were also buying us a new van and paying for promotion.

  
  


Mike held the door open to the ‘dressing room’ and I let it shut behind me before flopping down on the battered couch beside him. A smile passed between us and I knew he was thinking the same as me; ‘wow’.

  
  


I leant back and closed my eyes, thought about all those pubs and bars we’d played in, thought about all the times we’d broken bones and pulled muscles after lugging around amps and equipment. Memories of long, hot nights rehearsing in Phi’s parents house and later his own; time spent lounging in the local park with Mike trying out new guitar riffs, spitting out new rhymes and verses. Sure, that wasn’t going to stop but now it was all feeling like it was worth something. We had a record company who were interested enough to sign us up; they were paying for gigs and promotion and we were getting more freedom to do what we loved the most.

  
  


Someone was nudging me in the side; I saw it was Phi as I cracked open my eyes and shifted closer to Mike so that he could sit down.

  
  


“That went well?” he grinned.

  
  


“It was amazing,” I uttered as Brad, Rob and Joe filed into the room, “I don’t think we’ve ever played so well,” I grinned.

  
  


“Man they were shouting for an encore and this time they really meant it,” Joe beamed, jumping down on an upturned beer crate.

  
  


“Darren’s here,” Brad nodded, “He says he’s going to come and chat to us in a while.”

  
  


I leant my head against Mike’s shoulder and smiled at him, earning a tut from Brad’s direction.

  
  


“What?” I frowned as Rob chucked me a bottle of water.

  
  


“Maybe you could act a little less gay when Darren comes to chat?” Brad asked, his tone deadpan.

  
  


“Excuse me?” I laughed incredulously.

  
  


Mike shifted beside me and narrowed his eyes at Brad.

  
  


“Now now girls,” Rob interjected, “No bitching.”

  
  


I was about to retort when the door opened and Rocky squeezed himself into the cramped room, a smile upon his face and a cold beer in his hand.

  
  


“You guys were brilliant,” he grinned, “That was the best I’ve seen you playing for a while. Nice, tight set. Keep it up,” he smiled, plonking himself down on the floor next to Brad.

  
  


I zoned out as the others began to chat and Phi moved over to the floor across from Rocky where a game of poker broke out. Brad, I noted, kept shooting me glances and so I slid my arm around Mike and cuddled up to him.

  
  


“He’s such a fucker,” I murmured.

  
  


Mike sighed, “I know,” he nodded, “He doesn’t mean it though…”

  
  


“Yeah? Well maybe he should think before he speaks. I’ve a good mind to fuck you senseless when Darren gets here,” I laughed.

  
  


Mike’s mouth gaped open and he slapped me across the stomach, “I can’t believe you just said that you bum!”

  
  


“You know, I actually feel like a bum,” I noted, “This is the first time I haven’t worked since I dropped out of school. I haven’t had a job all year,” I gasped, “I’ve been living on what I earned over Christmas and now it’s starting to show. I can’t even afford to fill my car with gas. It‘s a good job I still live at home, I don‘t think my money could withstand rent…”

  
  


“You’re lucky though. You have parents who adore you,” Mike nodded, “I’d do anything for that.”

  
  


“I know,” I sighed, “Sorry Mike.”

  
  


“Psst,” Mike shook his head, “I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  
  


“Remember when we worked at that liqueur store?!” I said, fast changing the subject.

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike slowly smiled, “I think I had the best time of my life then. I’d just go home and get wasted on the whiskey we’d stolen…”

  
  


I stared at him for a while, “Things are getting better though, aren’t they? I mean, that’s what I meant. We’re not going to have to work such dead end jobs because things are finally coming together…”

  
  


Mike didn’t answer me. His expression had glazed over and he slowly nodded his head once more though it didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that his thoughts were preoccupied. I followed his forlorn gaze; it was settled on Brad who was staring back with the same solemn expression.

  
  


Before I could open my mouth the door opened and Darren was walking in. He looked different to the last couple of times we’d met, dressed more casually in jeans and a band t-shirt. His hair was spiked up and his forehead glistening slightly from the heat outside.

  
  


“Hey everyone,” he beamed, letting the door click shut behind him.

  
  


Everyone murmured their greetings; everyone except Brad and Mike. They were still staring at one another…

  
  
  


+

  
  


Darren had arranged for us to go and start work on our demo the following weekend which gave us five days to decide which songs we would be recording. The studios were booked, the gear hired and paid for. All we had to do was turn up and record. I should’ve been ecstatic; over the moon but I couldn’t shift the feeling that there was something seriously shitty going on between Mike and Brad. Sure their relationship had always been pretty fiery but lately things just seemed to be getting tenser. They’d not spoken one word to each other and by the time Darren had finished prepping us on the following weekend and left, Mike had excused himself from the room and I hadn’t failed to notice the way Brad’s piercing eyes had followed him to the door or the words that he’d muttered as Mike as closed the door softly behind him.

  
  


I was all ready to follow him when Phi had sat down beside me and as it was, was still staring at me expectantly.

  
  


“…Everything okay?” he asked gently, snapping me out of my thoughts.

  
  


“Erm yeah,” I shook my head to rid the daze that had swept over me, “Fine.”

  
  


“You, erm, want to go for a walk or something? We could go and watch the fireworks?”

  
  


“Sure,” I nodded as he got to his feet.

  
  


The makeshift stage was vibrating from the crunching sounds of the metal band which were playing as Phoenix and I exited the dressing room and followed a pathway out to the front of the stage. More kids had gathered and we managed to push our way through them until we were right at the back and the band was nothing more than a distant sound in the dusky evening.

  
  


“So,” Phi paused, looking awkward for the first time in his life, “How’s things?”

  
  


“Alright, I guess,” I nodded, feeling the awkwardness growing between us, “You?”

  
  


“Yeah, cool,” he paused, “Almost finished painting the house. You should come by you know, you don’t have to wait to be invited…”

  
  


“I know,” I nodded as we carried on walking further away from the crowds until we were almost at the edge of the park.

  
  


Almost two weeks had passed since Phi and I had well, fucked one another. Almost two weeks without either of us mentioning it. It could have been because we’d only seen each other three times for rehearsing for today’s gig or it could have been because I’d deliberately avoided him at all costs. My heart was racing at an inexplicable manner. It was like I was suddenly seeing Phoenix in a completely different light. Sure, I’d always liked him but it had never amounted to  _this_. Now every move he made, every glance he cast in my direction had me in awe.

  
  


“You’ve not been avoiding me, have you?” Phi asked, suddenly stopping.

  
  


I sucked my breath in as his fingers brushed against my cheek. He could have done that a month ago and it wouldn’t have mattered; but now? Now it felt unreal.

  
  


“Was it that obvious?” I murmured bashfully.

  
  


“Maybe,” he grinned, swiftly leaning in to kiss me.

  
  


That certainly broke the ice and I kissed him back, struggling to keep my composure as his hands cupped my face and my arms slid around his waist. Before I knew it the kiss was over and his hand was closing around mine. He pulled me in his direction and we were running across the moonlit grass like a pair of mischievous school kids.

  
  


The music and murmur of the crowd drifted into the distance as Phi and I raced across the slightly damp grass. Our feet came to an asphalt lined pathway and pitter-pattered along it as it veered away from the grass and weaved in and out of rose bushes, finally coming to an abrupt end behind a patch of overgrown thicket. Phi turned to smile at me as our feet stopped then he was pulling me behind the bushes and pushing me against a cold wall, his lips captured mine and we were kissing intensely once again.

  
  


“This feels good,” he hushed against my lips, his hands sliding down my sides and creeping underneath my T-Shirt.

  
  


“Mmm,” I managed to murmur in agreement as his fingers danced down my sides once again and gently slid themselves into the waistband of my jeans.

  
  


The strobe lights from the stage were managing to find our shadowy figures through the bushes and they lit the darkened sky as Phi’s hands unzipped my jeans. It was heated and quick; two guys fumbling around in the dark getting one another off - nothing more, nothing less, yet as I climaxed with my body pressed against the cold wall and Phi’s hands pinning me there I couldn’t help but feel like this was me falling fast and hard; yeah for a man who’d just fucked me behind a bush. How romantic.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


We walked around the edge of the park, sat on a bench which overlooked the pin sized stage and let the evening breezes that were gathering wrap themselves around us. Phi’s hand was clamped around mine and we stayed still in a contented silence, watching the crowd disperse long after the fireworks had finished and the final band had left the stage. We just sat there and I felt calm, the calmest I’d felt in a long time. I could hear the church bells behind us, ringing out twelve o’clock when we finally moved and looked at one another.

  
  


“We should get going, huh?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I breezed out, not really wanting to move at all.

  
  


Phoenix smiled warmly at me, “I wish you could come back to mine,” he cleared his throat, “But y’know…”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded; I knew.

  
  


It should have made me feel some sort of remorse; the reason I couldn’t go back to his being that his girlfriend was more than likely sitting in their bed waiting for him. The thing is, I didn’t feel bad. I didn’t feel like this was wrong; I didn’t even contemplate that Phi was in the wrong either. This was just how things were falling into place and Phi and I were just another part of life; it was something between us that I couldn’t explain, that I couldn’t stop happening.

  
  


He squeezed my hand and we got up, took the long way back down to the stage. A few tired looking attendants were setting about dismantling it and in the distance I could see our beat up RV, grubby and battered waiting for me to drive it home. Phi let go of my hand.

  
  


“See you tomorrow,” he smiled.

  
  


My heart sank as he turned away and I watched him walking toward Rob and Joe who were loitering with beer bottles beside Phi’s car. It looked so out of place next to the RV; a polished BMW convertible that his parents had bought him. Rob and Joe waved in my direction, Joe shouted out a declaration of love and I rolled my eyes, pulled out the keys and walked over to the RV, my feet crunching against the grass beneath them.

  
  


I didn’t expect to find Mike and Brad inside. Nor did I expect Mike to be cowering in tears and Brad to be towering over him with a clenched fist. My jaw dropped for a split second as I stood shell shocked at the sliding door, my eyes wearily attempting to assess the situation in front of me.

  
  


Brad looked back at me; expression that of a deer caught in the headlights of an eighteen wheeler. He slowly edged away, wiping the back of his hand across his jeans. Mike hastily wiped his hands across his tearstained cheeks and cleared his throat, eyes darting between Brad and then myself.

  
  


“What’s going on?” I asked sternly, finally finding my voice.

  
  


“It’s nothing,” Mike was quick to gasp out.

  
  


“ _Nothing_?” I almost smiled incredulously as I stepped inside and slammed the door behind me, “It doesn’t look like nothing…”

  
  


“Just an argument,” Brad spoke calmly, “Nothing to get your undies in a twist over…”

  
  


“Mike?” I frowned, “Did he  _hit_  you?”

  
  


“No. No,” Mike shook his head.

  
  


I raised my eyebrows in disbelief.

  
  


“We were just arguing, that’s all…”

  
  


“About?”

  
  


“Does it even matter?” Brad interjected.

  
  


“Well yes it does,” I hissed, “When my friend has blood pouring down his cheek.”

  
  


Mike hastily wiped at his cheek but it was too late, I’d seen what Brad had done.

  
  


“Want to tell me what this is all about?”

  
  


“Brad was just pissed off,” Mike sighed, “He doesn’t like it when you flirt with me, says it’s a bad idea if Darren knows we’re gay…”

  
  


I opened my mouth to try and speak but was that gob smacked that words failed me for a good few minutes.

  
  


“What?” I smirked, turning to Brad, “Please tell me that’s a joke?”

  
  


Brad folded his arms across his chest and released a sigh of exasperation.

  
  


“Just because you’re gay it doesn’t mean you need to be so touchy feely…”

  
  


“Oh my god,” I laughed, “What are you, jealous?!” I spat, “I can do what I want Brad okay? If I want to wear a tutu and dance around I shall do that. Understand?”

  
  


Brad rolled his eyes and turned away, “Yeah that’s just about your standards isn’t Chester? Let everyone know you’re a flaming homosexual…”

  
  


“And what exactly is wrong with being that…”

  
  


Brad swung round, fire in his eyes, “Nothing,” he spat, “Just don’t keep throwing it around. This band is going places Chaz, the last thing we need is to be labeled as a ‘gay metal act’ or a ‘camp rock band’ okay? Just tone it down.”

  
  


“You’re unbelievable, you really are,” I sneered, glancing at Mike who was staring at the floor, his eyebrows creased, “Maybe you should go Brad?”

  
  


“Yeah,” he nodded, “We’ll discuss this tomorrow shall we? Talk about how this band is fucking real now, how this is no longer something you do to kill the time you have in your pitiful life. We’re going places Chester and you need to start acting like this means something to you…”

  
  


“Get out,” I hissed.

  
  


“Oh I’m sorry, have I hit a nerve?”

  
  


“You amaze me Brad,” I growled, “Of all the people to tell me that?”

  
  


“I was just saying,” he shrugged, “Things are getting serious. You two need to start thinking about impressing the label, drinking a little less and smoking a little less crack…”

  
  


My retort wasn’t even out of my mouth by the time Brad had turned around and jumped out of the RV, door slammed shut behind him. I stared, open mouthed at the spot of floor his feet had occupied just seconds ago, fists clenched at my sides.

  
  


“How dare he?” I hissed, swinging around to face Mike, “Who  _is_  he?”

  
  


Mike just shrugged, uncrossed his legs and let a sigh roll off his lips. The wide eyes and restless composure were a giveaway that he’d probably come in here to have a smoke and Brad had followed him, the argument proceeding.

  
  


“Can we just go?” Mike sighed, rubbing his hands down his shirt, “I just want to sleep.”

  
  


“You’re out of it aren’t you?”

  
  


“No,” he shook his head, “I just needed something, that’s all…”

  
  


“But you promised…”

  
  


Mike glanced down at his fingers, “I know,” he whispered, “I just had to have something to make everything stop,” he paused and sniffed, “My head felt like it was going to explode…”

  
  


“And now?”

  
  


“I feel better for now,” he murmured, “I know I won’t in a few hours but I don’t even want to think about that…Maybe I’ll be asleep so I don’t have to…”

  
  


I wanted to be angry with him, to tell him that it wouldn’t be okay in a few hours; we both knew that. I couldn’t be angry though, I didn’t seem to have it inside me.

  
  


“Come on,” I nodded, turning away and scrambling over to the drivers seat, “Let’s go.”

  
  


I pushed the key in the ignition and Mike slid into the seat beside me a few seconds later. Reversing the van out of the parking lot I drove through a rusted gate, turning right onto the main road. I glanced at Mike, the streetlights illuminating the redness of his cheek and split lip.

  
  


“Jesus,” I seethed out, “What did he do to you Mike?”

  
  


“Nothing,” he sighed, fidgeting with the radio dial.

  
  


“Nothing?” I repeated, slapping his hand away from the dial, “He more than hit you didn’t he?”

  
  


“I don’t know,” Mike’s eyes glazed over and I glanced back at the road, steering the RV smoothly around a corner, “You missed the turn,” Mike muttered.

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


We drove in silence as I picked up speed and headed out of town, rather than through to the other side where home was. I needed Mike to talk to me though; I needed to figure things out. The sudden contrast to what life had been like an hour ago was stark and stabbed away at my mind, causing a sense of uneasiness to settle in my stomach. An hour ago I had been kissing and forgetting with Phoenix. Now it was arguments and wondering why Brad had so much animosity toward everyone else.

  
  


Coming to the edge of suburbia where the houses became less frequent and the woodland and fields thickened, I pulled in at a small gas station come diner; one we’d spent many late nights in on the way back from gigs, writing songs and eating fried breakfasts at four in the morning. I shut off the engine and rested my arms against the steering wheel for a while. Mike remained silent, his glassy eyes staring blankly out of the grimy windscreen.

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


He slowly turned to look at me.

  
  


“Come on,” I nodded, opening the door.

  
  


I jumped down onto the gravel beneath me, sneakers crunching against the surface. Mike slowly undid his seatbelt and followed me outside, the door snapping shut behind him.

  
  


“I thought we were going back?”

  
  


“We are,” I smiled, “I just wanted to talk to you…”

  
  


“And your bedroom is as good a place as any…”

  
  


“We’ve not been here for ages,” I smiled, ignoring him as I started to walk across the parking lot.

  
  


“Because the food sucks and it’s overpriced?” Mike grimaced, finally following behind me.

  
  


“No,” I smiled, glancing back at him, “I didn’t mean in there… We used to sit over here,” I paused, coming to a grassy verge and trudging across it, “Remember?” I asked, stopping beside a fence which divided us from a steep bank that trundled down to the river.

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike smiled, stopping beside me, “I remember when you were stoned and fell all the way down there from up here…”

  
  


“Hey! That wasn’t funny. I had to have stitches in my arm. I still have the scars…”

  
  


“Look, I’m sorry I broke my promise…”

  
  


“It’s not that,” I sighed, “I just want to know why Brad made such a mess of your face.”

  
  


“It looks worse than it is.”

  
  


“You’re avoiding my question.”

  
  


“Okay,” Mike nodded, “I went to the van to smoke some blow. I’m sorry but I just needed something so badly. Brad followed me, started having a go at me.”

  
  


“What about?”

  
  


“He’s pissed off about what you said to me.”

  
  


“What? What did I say?” I frowned.

  
  


“About fucking me senseless?”

  
  


“That?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike paused, “He doesn’t like you being flirtatious.”

  
  


“Flirtatious?” I laughed, “Mike I’m not  _being_  flirtatious. It’s called ‘having a joke’.”

  
  


“I  _know_  that,” Mike pointed out, “Brad just doesn’t like our gay jokes. He also had a pop at me for smoking. Then he hit me. That’s it.”

  
  


“That’s it?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike paled, turning away from me, walking away from me.

  
  


“Then why are you walking off?” I asked, jogging a little to catch him up, “Fuck Mike, why are you shaking?” I asked, resting my hand against his arm.

  
  


His feet stopped. His eyes closed.

  
  


“This isn’t the first time, is it?”

  
  


“It’s just the blow, that’s all…”

  
  


“Bullshit Mike, we’re not talking about that. I’m talking about Brad hitting you. He’s done it before, hasn’t he? Oh my  _god_ , why didn’t I fucking notice? It all makes sense now…”

  
  


Mike stayed still, his pounding heartbeat penetrating through my fingertips.

  
  


“Yes,” he whispered softly, eyes slowly opening, “Yes he’s done it before but he doesn’t mean to do it. It’s just that sometimes we argue and sometimes I piss him off, in fact I do that a lot of the time and I probably deserve it when he hits me but it’s nothing Chester, it’s no big deal.”

  
  


I stared, slightly taken aback. Sure, I knew Brad had pettiness inside him and perhaps hated the fact that Mike was close with me. I knew that Brad was an intolerant asshole who would argue the toss with anyone that dared to disagree with him but the fact that he hit Mike was just too much for me to digest at once. My head began to throb and still I stared in shock, my eyes drawn to the bruise forming across Mike’s cheek. Then I thought about a lot of things; Mike’s clumsiness, the way he always had some bruise or scratch lining his porcelain skin. The amount of times he’d ‘fallen over his guitar amp’ or ‘walked into the RV door’ or ‘tripped over when he was drunk’ - now they all made sense. My hand fell from Mike’s arm and I raked it through my hair.

  
  


“It was him, wasn’t it?” I croaked, “On my birthday. He took you back to Rob’s but you didn’t fall, did you? He did that to you, didn’t he Mike? He hurt you…”

  
  


The tear that was meandering down Mike’s cheek, the solemn nod of his head confirmed it all without words. I felt my stomach lurching, my insides turning blue. How could he do that to him? How  _could_  he?

  
  


“He doesn’t mean it Chester,” Mike’s voice whispered, “Please don’t tell him I told you any of this, please Chester…”

  
  


“He can’t keep doing this to you! I mean, how long has this been his way of communicating huh?”

  
  


“It’s been a while…”

  
  


“Mike, I can’t keep quiet. He needs to know that it’s got to stop.”

  
  


“It will,” Mike sighed, “I’ll talk to him. You just, you can’t tell anyone about this. Especially not Brad,” Mike’s words quickened, laced with panic, “Please Chester? You’ve got to promise me that this stays between us, you’ve got to fucking promise me…”

  
  


“Mike I can’t! I can’t turn away from this…”

  
  


“It’s nothing though,” he rushed out, his hand grabbing mine, “Nothing but stupid, minor arguments. It hardly happens. It’s nothing Chester. Just promise me that you won’t breathe a word…”

  
  


“Okay,” I nodded, “I promise,” I whispered, my stomach flipping as the words left my mouth, “But if I see one more bruise on your skin then so god help him Mike, I will not keep my mouth shut after that.”

  
  


Mike nodded, eyes wide like a small child. His hand was still shaking as it brushed against mine and all the realisation that was striking me between the eyes, still waiting to sink in, it was killing me, too hard to consume. We slowly walked back to the RV, silence enveloping us on the long drive home. I don’t think I had any words  _to_  say, I was slowly and surely stunned.

  
  


+

  
  


That was another pinnacle in my life, a turning point but not for the best; more for the worse. As we drove home that night and passed sleeping houses and dream filled suburbs, something inside me died; the tiny spark of hope that Brad and I would ever be friends. I look back upon that night and wish that I hadn’t wanted to protect Mike so badly, that I would have promised him anything. That was one promise I kept for too long; one promise that was so fucked up that it nearly destroyed us all.


	9. Will I ever get home

The following week passed by in a haze. Nothing was said about Mike’s revelation; instead I decided that giving him some space might ease things a little. Well, as much space as can be given when you live with someone. Mike had practically moved in and was sharing my room which I was currently residing in, lazing about on the bed and half watching the TV. The reason I was only half watching was because Phoenix (who had called around after we’d left his house earlier having slogged our guts out rehearsing and re-writing songs) was lying on top of me, trailing kisses along my jawbone.

  
  


“You know you should stop that,” I uttered, “My Mother let you in the house under the premise that you were a good boy with wholesome intentions and you haven’t even shut the bloody door properly…”

  
  


“That didn’t bother you when you were snorting cocaine off my stomach,” he murmured, his tongue flicking out and gliding across my bottom lip.

  
  


“Yes well that was a very naughty thing for you to entice me into doing. You’re leading me astray,” I groaned softly as his hands slid down my bare stomach and smoothed across my hipbones.

  
  


Phi chuckled, “You’re so bothered,” he grinned.

  
  


“Mmm,” I nodded in agreement, “What’s the time?”

  
  


“Almost midnight. You want me to leave, I can take a hint you know?”

  
  


“No,” I laughed, “Just close the door will you, I dread to think how much of this my family have heard…”

  
  


My voice trailed off as Phoenix got up and I raised my head, riddled by dizziness from the coke and the calming sensation Phi’s touches had brought about over the past two hours. It was a far cry from the week of intense band practices we’d had; hours and hours, days and days of perfecting the five songs we’d chosen to record for our demo. I felt like I’d hardly had a chance to breathe, which in retrospect was perhaps a good thing. That way I’d not had a chance to be tempted to talk to Brad and on the occasions that I had had to look at his vile face, I’d simply turned away. I’d channeled my anger via my microphone and suddenly the words that Mike had written were starting to take on new meanings. Before, I could always relate to them; but in my own way. Now when I screamed out the words ‘All you do is take away’ and ‘The way your hands close around me and the way your eyes follow my every move…’ it had my mind summoning up sickening images of Brad’s fist connecting with Mike’s face.

  
  


“Hey…”

  
  


I blinked as Phi’s voice broke into my thoughts.

  
  


“Sorry, I’m tired.”

  
  


“It’s been a long week,” he smiled, “And a long evening…”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded dreamily, “You have to go, don’t you? Sophie will be wait…”

  
  


“Not just yet,” Phoenix whispered, pressing his finger against my lips, “A few more minutes won‘t kill me. Let me sing you to sleep or something corny.”

  
  


I smiled as he reached over me and flicked the light switch, dimming the room in an instant. I closed my eyes, not wanting to think about the fact that I was sleeping with somebody else’s boyfriend. The thing about not wanting to think about things is the fact that you nearly always do think about them. It’s inevitable really. That’s why I took to wondering where Mike had gotten to instead. He’d mentioned going to see his Mother but the vacant look in his eyes when he’d left had told me otherwise. Sure, I didn’t expect him to give up drugs just like that and I was hardly setting an example myself but, I dunno, I just wanted him to be happy; not reliant on chemicals to give him a lift.

  
  


“You asleep?” Phi murmured.

  
  


“Yeah,” I smiled.

  
  


“Idiot.”

  
  


I shuffled about, resting my head to the side, “I never got the point of that question. I mean it’s not like you’d get an answer if the person you’re asking is asleep, is it?”

  
  


Phoenix laughed softly, “That’s the idea dumbass. If you don’t get an answer then obviously they  _are_  asleep.”

  
  


“Not necessarily. They might just not want to talk. They might be ignoring you.”

  
  


Phi gently pressed a kiss against my lips.

  
  


“What was that for?” I frowned.

  
  


“You’re cute when you’re delirious,” he murmured.

  
  


“I’m not delirious…”

  
  


“You are. And you’re cute. I like that about you,” he paused, “You just sometimes say the sweetest things. You’re naïve Chester and I mean that in a good way. I love it,” he chuckled.

  
  


I could feel myself blushing in the dark and swallowed down a large gulp of air. I wasn’t used to people saying positive things about me so I didn’t quite know what to do. Sure I got comments on my voice, such as, ‘Wow, how can someone so scrawny sing so loud!?’ and ‘Dude, I love your glasses…’ which provoked a bashful reaction within me but this? This made my heart warm and my stomach flutter with uncertainty at the same time. Maybe it’s because I didn’t think of myself as anything out of the ordinary and here was a guy who I’d fast become infatuated with telling me I was sweet?

  
  


“You asleep?”

  
  


“Yes!” I laughed.

  
  


“What are you thinking? You think way too much y’know.”

  
  


“I do?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Phoenix uttered sleepily, his body sliding down behind mine.

  
  


“Are you spooning me?” I smiled.

  
  


“Uh-huh,” he chuckled, “You’re avoiding my question.”

  
  


“I was thinking about you. How weird it is to hear someone tell me they, ehm, like me?” I closed my eyes tighter and physically squirmed as the words left my mouth.

  
  


“Maybe I’ll have to tell you more often.”

  
  


“Maybe.”

  
  


“What else?”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“What else are you thinking?”

  
  


“Nothing.”

  
  


“Liar.”

  
  


“I was just wondering where Mike is… How do you know I was thinking about something else?”

  
  


“It’s obvious. You had that distracted tone to your voice, the one you always have when your mind’s elsewhere…”

  
  


“Oh so now I’m naïve  _and_  obvious…” I joked.

  
  


“No!” Phi laughed, “You care a lot about him don’t you?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“I love what you guys have. Don’t let anyone take that away from you.”

  
  


I frowned, “What do you mean?” I asked, twisting around to face him. My eyes had gotten used to the dark and I could just about make out his features.

  
  


“I don’t really mean anything, nothing specific,” he shrugged, “I just mean it’s a great thing for the band. Everyone’s connected in their own way. Rob and Joe are like partners in crime, Joe and I are like the best comedy double act when we get together,” he paused as I laughed, “Rob and Brad are like the philosophers when they hang around, you and me are well, y’know,” he winked which earned him a playful slap, “But you and Mike, you kind of bring everything together. You work so well with one another and I doubt that anyone but you or him could explain why or how. You’ve got something special…”

  
  


His voice drifted off as my bedroom door creaked open. The shaft of light from the hallway illuminated Mike’s body as he tried to shuffle quietly inside, failing miserably as he tripped over a pile of books just inside the doorway.

  
  


“Shit,” he uttered.

  
  


Phi smiled, pressed his finger against my lips as Mike got up and stared in our direction through the darkened room.

  
  


“Chester?” he whispered, stumbling further inside, “Are you asleep?”

  
  


I couldn’t help myself as I burst out laughing; Mike immediately doubled back to the doorway and flicked on the lights.

  
  


“Oh ha ha,” he smiled, letting the door shut behind him, “No need to ask what you two have been up to?”

  
  


“Probably not,” Phi replied, “What about you?”

  
  
  


“Oh I just went to see my mom,” he sighed, flopping down against the sofa bed that had become his refuge for the time being.

  
  


“How is she?”

  
  


“Oh she’s fine, y’know. Here I was worried to death about her and I walk in on her, well, y’know, getting to it with this man…”

  
  


“Oh.”

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike nodded, visibly cringing, “They stopped long enough to have coffee with me. Looks like she’s given up the Jesus crap for now. Heath is his name and Heath likes motorbikes. He’s taking her to a show in Las Vagas next weekend. I told her about the band. I told her we’ve got a publishing deal and are making a demo. She thought I was talking about a marching band and Christ, I’ve never been in a marching band…”

  
  


Phi and I exchanged a knowing glance. It wasn’t often that Mike felt compelled to talk openly about his Mother; that’s why we quietly dressed, listening without interjecting.

  
  


“… If she’d been around she’d fucking know that I wasn’t in a marching band because I wasn’t even in school at that time. And then I tell her it’s a rock band and she just snorts with laughter, asks me when I’m going to get a proper job because she needs some money for rent… She‘d know all about ‘proper’ jobs, wouldn’t she?” he hissed, lighting up a cigarette, “Her resume is crammed full of them. Prostitute, drug pusher, pole dancer, fucking…”

  
  


“I’d better go,” Phoenix smiled softly, “See you in the morning okay?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded as he pulled on his jacket and slipped out of the door. The irrational side of my brain wondered if this had been the excuse he’d been waiting for to get back to his other half. But then the other side of my mind realised that he knew Mike probably needed me more than he did right at that moment.

  
  


“… She didn’t even wish me luck. I just wanted her to be proud of me y’know? To wish me all her best and actually seem interested in what I’m doing. I mean, it felt like she hadn’t even noticed that I’ve not been there for the past few weeks.”

  
  


“Mike,” I sat down beside him, “Hey.”

  
  


“Sorry?” his eyes blinked.

  
  


“You were totally going off on one then,” I smiled.

  
  


“Oh man, I’m sorry. I just…”

  
  


“Don’t apologise. It’s fine. In fact, it’s more than fine. It’s better to talk about things than bottle them up.”

  
  


He smiled softly, nodded his head, “Man I need a drink,” he sighed.

  
  


“Come on then, I just happen to know that there’s a bottle of vodka in the kitchen. My mom was making punch earlier.”

  
  


“Any special occasion?” Mike asked as we got up and stepped into the hallway.

  
  


“Oh no,” I laughed, “You know my mom. She’ll make a vat of punch up as if she were baking a batch of cookies. I think she had some friends around earlier. There was a lot of perfume, hairspray and ‘aren’t you two big boys?’ when Phi and I got back. We didn‘t stick around long,” I chuckled, following Mike into the kitchen.

  
  


I flicked on the light and was met with stacks of pots and pans, empty takeout packets, a couple of overflowing ashtrays and a large glass bowl of fruit which I assumed had at one point during the evening also had some alcohol in it as well. I found the vodka in one of the high cupboards. It was next to a jar of pickles, just behind a box of Cornflakes. There were no clean glasses so I settled for a chipped Mickey Mouse mug, filling it halfway and passing it to Mike before I put the bottle back in its hiding place.

  
  


“Thanks,” Mike grinned, before he proceeded to down the whole lot at once.

  
  


I watched him with eyebrows raised and he responded with a shrug before digging into his back pocket and pulling out his tobacco tin.

  
  


“You mind if I smoke this?” he asked, sliding the lid off and taking out a neatly rolled joint.

  
  


“Sure,” I nodded, frowning a little, “Where’d you get…”

  
  


“It’s just weed.”

  
  


“I know,” I smiled sadly; “We better go outside. My mom has smoked enough weed in her time to know the smell from a mile off. At least if we’re outside we can blame the neighbors.”

  
  


“What, your forty year old school teacher?”

  
  


“Yeah! He’s worse than you!”

  
  


“That’s good to know,” Mike grinned as he sat down on the weather beaten bench on the veranda, “I’m not quite a lost cause.”

  
  


“Nah, not just yet,” I paused and watched as he lit up the joint and took a long hit from it before I asked hesitantly, “Can we talk about Brad?”

  
  


Mike looked surprised for a second but he slowly nodded his head. He moved further along the bench and with his free hand motioned for me to sit down. The bench was damp, I could feel its cold touch seeping through my shorts. I shivered and turned sideways, studying Mike’s tired face. And then finally, I began to talk.

  
  


“I feel like you’ve been avoiding me all week.”

  
  


“That’s probably because I have?”

  
  


“Thanks,” I paused, “Are you ready to talk now? I mean, you must know that we need to talk, right?”

  
  


“Yeah,” He nodded glumly, “Yeah I know we need to talk. I, I think I’m ready now.”

  
  


“Good,” I paused, suddenly struck by the realisation that perhaps  _I_  wasn’t ready to hear what Mike had to say, and where the fuck were we supposed to start anyway? All my well rehearsed lines just sounded trite. All the things I wanted to ask were lodged on the tip of my tongue and they didn’t want to come out at all.

  
  


Fuck. Deep breath.

  
  


“Mike? What happened on my birthday?”

  
  


He shrugged a little, took another toke, “I was drunk. I don’t remember much.”

  
  


“You remember enough though, don’t you?”

  
  


“Okay, okay,” He sighed, “Brad and I walked back to Rob’s house. He was pissed off at me for some reason or other.”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“I don’t know.”

  
  


“You must know.”

  
  


“I really don’t. Brad’s got a switch inside him Chester, surely you figured that out by now. One minute he’s fine, the next he’s anything  _but_  fine.”

  
  


I nodded, waited for him to continue.

  
  


“I was really drunk, I was off my head on cocaine. We argued about that, we argued about everything and anything really. He hit me. I pushed him back. I know I shouldn’t have, I should have just left it. He hit me back some more, pushed me into the bathroom, slammed me against the floor, cracked my head against the sink. Then he left. I took the painkillers to make the pain go away Chaz, no other reason, I promise you,” he paused, “I know it was a dumb thing to do. I was high, drunk and coughing up blood. The last thing I should have done was swallow a bottle full of painkillers. I passed out, I guess and then you found me…”

  
  


“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” I sighed, glancing up to the deep night sky.

  
  


“I.. I couldn’t. I didn’t want to admit it.”

  
  


“And if I hadn’t seen Brad hitting you last weekend, would you have carried on lying to me?”

  
  


“I wasn’t lying.”

  
  


“Well, keeping the truth from me then?”

  
  


“Maybe.”

  
  


“Maybe?”

  
  


“I don’t know Chester.”

  
  


I sighed, glanced back to Mike before reaching into my hoody pocket and taking out my cigarettes. I lit one up and took a long drag from it, exhaling the toxic smoke through my lips. Silence reigned between us; I hadn’t an idea of what to say and I was pretty sure that Mike didn’t particularly want to talk full stop.

  
  


“How long has this been happening?”

  
  


“A while.”

  
  


“A while?” I echoed, taking a drag from my cigarette, “How long is a while Mike?”

  
  


“Since we were kids.”

  
  


“Shit Mike,” I grimaced, almost choking on the smoke, “You’re kidding me, right?”

  
  


Mike’s eyes dropped their gaze; suddenly he was staring down at the cold concrete beneath our feet. That alone told me that he was most certainly not kidding; my reaction hardly seemed appropriate.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” I gushed out, “God, I just didn’t realise. I mean, it all makes sense now but…Why’d you keep it to yourself?”

  
  


His eyes flickered to me again, empty; troubled; scared. He was showing many emotions but I couldn’t put my finger on which one was screaming out the most.

  
  


“I’m scared,” he told me simply, “That’s why.”

  
  


“Tell me more.”

  
  


“It doesn’t happen that often. Honestly,” he added, obviously reading right into my eyes, “He just gets a little physical. We’re like chalk and cheese. We were sort of,  _thrown_  together as kids. I was the geeky, scrawny one - and up until we met that’s what he’d always been. Everyone had always told him what to do and pushed him about. When I walked into his life I turned that around for him, unintentionally of course. For the first time in his life he had power over someone else,” Mike paused, “Least that’s how I see it.”

  
  


“But.. Why not walk away Mike?”

  
  


“When you care about someone, you do all you can to help them; you ignore their bad habits and concentrate on the good things about them, right?”

  
  


I nodded my head in agreement, if there were a statement I could associate with more than ever then that was it.

  
  


“Besides,” Mike continued, “It’s never been that easy. I mean, his Mother took me in when I was a kid, she had the best intentions and I, well, I didn’t exactly have anywhere else to go. Brad’s one of the few people who’s been constant in my life. Some days I cling on to that notion.”

  
  


“And other days?”

  
  


“I remind myself that I can’t walk away. This is all I have. Him. The band. You.”

  
  


Mike stared at me with such intensity and it was a while before either of us spoke. Our eyes didn’t leave one another’s gaze and for the first time in ages, I felt like we were connected once again. That spark that I’d felt tingle inside me when I’d first met Mike and he’d brushed against me? It was back again. Maybe not as strong as it once had been but it was there nonetheless. It was only then that I was starting to realise that it had somehow slipped away - without me even noticing. But the past few months had been a roller coaster. Mike’s Mother being ill; the strains of being on the road; things obviously erupting between Brad and Mike; the uncertain relationship that had started to blossom between Phoenix and I. They, I thought with a clear mind, had all blocked our pathway; blotted our mindsets and thrown us apart a little. But now with the clear night sky, the soft shadow from the moon and the stillness of the air, I felt closer to Mike than I had in a long, long time. Something was clicking inside me, something I was sure he was feeling too. I felt my breath slipping through my dry lips; a sigh of relief. I felt my shoulders loosen as their weights gradually slid away. I reached forward and ran my hand across his face. My fingertips instinctively traced across an old scar on his jawbone, meandered over the bump of the yellowing bruise from his altercation with Brad. I smiled when his hand slid over mine and he gently pressed a kiss to it. I smiled because he was feeling it too; that strange connection that I’d never had with anyone else in my life - not even Josh. It was indescribable, impossible to determine it’s ‘how’ or ‘whys’ yet it felt safe. Mike leaned forward and wrapped his arms around me.

  
  


Just when our tears stopped I don’t know.

  
  


Why were we crying?

  
  


I never  _did_  figure that one out.

  
  


After that the words didn’t seem to stop flowing. We talked about Brad a lot and Mike reassured me that it wasn’t as bad as it seemed; that he gave as good as he got. ‘It’s just how we are,’ he told me at one point as his head rested against my shoulder, ‘like a pair of teenage girls. We bitch, we gripe, we rub each other up the wrong way and get into cat fights…’

  
  


+

  
  
  


I’m not mad at him for lying to me. I’m just mad because he was so fucking scared that he had to lie to me in the first place. No one should have to feel that way. Ever.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


At eleven thirty that morning the world outside was draped in sunshine and cotton clouds; cool breezes and the first hints of summer. Mike, myself and the rest of the band however were far from these idyllic scenes, sitting around a dust ridden studio with an over enthusiastic Darren. As we sat on the floor picking at the already threadbare carpet, eating fries from Burger King and slurping from warm cans of Pepsi, Darren babbled intensely about the producer he’d hired who was apparently a big name in ‘the business’ having worked with Limp Bizkit  _and_  David Hasselhoff. Looks of distain had been passed between the six of us at that announcement. But then it dawned on me that the guy would probably work well with Brad; he’d clearly had good experience of working with tossers. Darren was now telling us something about the lengthy process making an album would normally be. I was half listening as I dipped my fries into some barbeque sauce.

  
  


“But of course, you guys are just recording a demo. In ‘the business’…”

  
  


At this point I found myself zoning out. One more mention of ‘the business’ and I was tempted to make a loud and obnoxious wailing noise. Or a pained sigh. I did however get the gist; we were here for the weekend; we’d be slogging our guts out and probably not sleeping or eating much; we’d record five songs maximum and the finished product would be sitting on Darren’s bosses desk by Tuesday morning. I was, to put it bluntly, pissing myself. The fact that Darren was twittering on about things that weren’t remotely appropriate only fuelled my impatience. If we had ‘no time to waste’ as he’d put it, why the hell were we all haphazardly strewn across the room eating fast food and trying our hardest to make it look as it we were completely enamored by Darren’s words. Why weren’t we getting on with things?

  
  


My prayers were answered in the form of an aging hippy who somewhat bumbled through the door. Tall, thin with wiry glasses and a long, grey pony tail, the man who’d just stumbled into the studios placed a holdall down onto the floor and paused for a second, his eyes scanning the six of us and finally Darren.

  
  


“Ahh,” he smiled, a thick English accent pouring from his lips, “I see you’ve given me some young meat to get my teeth into! How the hell are you Darren?” he gushed.

  
  


“I’m good,” Darren replied courteously, “Guys, this is Ringo,” he smiled enthusiastically.

  
  


Sadly, the former Beatle was  _not_  standing before us, instead a tall, thin stranger who was slinging an arm around the young A&R assistant before turning to the six of us, his eyes studying us from behind his frames, “Welcome to hell,” he smiled, a playful laugh rolling off his lips.

  
  


The thing is, he wasn’t joking. The next five days were fucking hell.


	10. time starts moving

Our new RV was nothing out of the ordinary and not that dissimilar to our old one, which was now residing (much to his wife’s annoyance) in Joe Hahn’s driveway. Before us, in the parking lot outside the offices stood its replacement; it was white and shiny and given to us courtesy of Electric Ballroom Recordings. I glanced up at the dark building behind me, remembering my birthday; the day we’d been huddled inside one of the many conference rooms as Will discussed our fate with his managers. Now here we all were once again, two months later with a demo disc under our belts about to embark on a three month tour in less than ten minutes.

  
  


“Ahh, gang,” Rocky grinned, walking over to us with a rucksack and what looked like a battered, slightly faded road map, “Ready to go?”

  
  


“I guess,” I nodded as he dropped his bag down beside me, “We’re just waiting on Mike.”

  
  


“Ahh,” Rocky nodded, “Now why doesn’t that surprise me?”

  
  


“He’ll be here,” I told him sharply as he lit up a cigarette and wandered off again.

  
  


Of course he’d be here. I’d spent the entire night trying to get through to him on his phone. After we’d finished recording our demo, Mike had decided to go home. I’d been in no mood to argue with him, or anyone for that matter. The word’s ‘welcome to hell’ that had come from Ringo’s lips had been a pretty good way of describing how the weekend had gone. Oh, we got a brilliant demo out of it, one which we’d left copies of in the local record stores, the bars we frequented and randomly, the music store where Mike had bought his first guitar from. It had just been hellish to get to that point of completion. We didn’t stop working from the moment Ringo had placed his bag on the floor. Four whole days of singing, re-working, ironing out any insecurities about songs, getting every little thing pitch perfect. No sleep. No food. Just lots of caffeine and lots of concentration. We left the studio early on the following Tuesday morning, just after three am. Mike departed, telling me he had to see his Mom. Out of tiredness maybe, I’d asked him if he meant Ed. There’d been no reply and I hadn’t seen him since. Maybe that’s why I found myself glancing up the road with my fingers crossed. He  _had_  to be coming.

  
  


The others were all here. Brad leaning against the new RV, his eyes hidden by shades, his body covered by a black shirt and black pants. He was sipping from a bottle of water, staring at the sky, keeping out of my way - thank God. I knew that this was going to be a challenge for me - to steer clear of him and try not to say a word. We’d be living in each others pockets for the next three months and I couldn’t help but feel like this was going to be even harder due to the fact that I despised Brad more than I could emphasise. Rob was sitting next to him with his head in a book, surrounded by a pile of miscellaneous items; sleeping bags, pillows, an industrial sized torch, a large cardboard box stuffed with our demo discs, sticker sheets and posters and a small boom box covered in peeling band stickers and dust.

  
  


I thanked Electric Ballroom for their foresight to provide a trailer for the back of the RV. At least we would no longer have our guitars, amps, turntables and parts of Rob’s drum kit occupying the bunks and seats and floor space. No, instead our clothes, books and laundry would take their place.

  
  


I glanced at my watch. Five minutes to go.

  
  


Electric Ballroom had been good enough to let Rocky stay on as our manager. Normally they would have appointed someone else, someone from ‘the inside’ or some up and coming wannabe manager. Much persistence on our side had ensured he was to stay as our manager, as long as he signed a contract to Electric Ballroom, binding him to act responsibly, get us to the venues on time and keep us out of trouble. He’d not grumbled. That had always been his job, at least now he was getting paid for it. Money wise, we were given dollars to cover the touring costs, the demo recording and any promotion. If the tour went well we’d be given another contract to sign and then we’d record our debut album, and probably be forced to stay with Electric Ballroom for the next five years.

  
  


Once our debut album started selling, and this was the hugest IF in the world, we’d start paying the record company back, probably seeing some money a few months down the line via publishing royalties. It was a lot to digest all at once and I’d spent the last two weeks reluctantly talking with my parents who had told me that I should do what I wanted, as long as I was happy. Happy and broke, for the while, I thought to myself with a smile as I glanced up at the RV. Sure, we’d been on road trips before, sometimes for several weeks at a time but this was just all so different. This wasn’t driving around pubs and bars in the hope they’d let us play. This was driving around with a venue for every day, a spot on a tour which was properly organised and most importantly of all, which people actually went to. The first band we were supporting were Papa Roach. I’d found myself in possession of one of their demos and so far, they sounded great.

  
  


I caught sight of my watch again. Three minutes.

  
  


Joe was leaning against his car, saying goodbye to his wife and daughter Leila. She looked completely nonplussed, as most two year olds would at the prospect of not seeing her Father for the next few months. Maria, however, was the complete opposite with teary eyes and a vacant smile. She’d been here before but never in this way. Before it had meant seeing Joe the next week; a quick kiss on the cheek and ‘don’t misbehave’ but now it was a proper old goodbye, complete with smudged mascara. I caught someone watching me and turned to see Phoenix placing more luggage down beside my pink suitcases I’d borrowed them from my sister and brought them along just to piss Brad off.

  
  


“Hey,” he smiled.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


“You okay?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, glancing at my watch.

  
  


“Here’s Mike,” Phi grinned and I followed his eyes to the main road to see Mike getting out of a beat up Mustang and slinging a rucksack over his shoulder.

  
  


Squinting through the sun’s rays, I could just about make out the guy in the driver’s seat who was passing Mike his holdall.

  
  


It was Ed.

  
  


I frowned and watched Mike as he shut the passenger door and the car swiftly reversed then turned back out onto the road. Mike reached me just as Rocky reappeared with the keys to the RV, a Styrofoam cup of coffee and a bag of Kettle Chips.

  
  


“Last one on gets to sit in the passenger seat,” he hollered, “That means reading the map,” he hummed to himself as he unlocked the van.

  
  


Mike smiled, dropped his bag next to mine. I gazed at him, noting how he looked different. Not completely different - he just looked clean and smart and most of all happy - which I’d not seen him looking for a long time. His hair was spiked up to perfection, his body clothed in smart black pants and a navy shirt, his eyes lined with kohl and shining brightly behind his dark rimmed glasses.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


“Hey,” I nodded.

  
  


“What’s wrong?” He asked me with a frown.

  
  


“Do you even need to ask Mike?”

  
  


“I can explain,” he sighed.

  
  


“Oh you can? I’ve been worried sick about you and --”

  
  


“Chester. Calm down,” he smiled softly, “I’m sorry I didn’t call you. I just, I really didn’t have time and I know how shit that sounds.”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “It does sound pretty shit.”

  
  


“Can we talk in private for a moment?” he asked.

  
  


“Sure,” I replied, stepping away from my pile of luggage and following Mike over to the far corner of the parking lot. I glanced over at Phi who was watching us with worried eyes, ignoring the fact that Rob was asking him to help load his drum kit into the trailer.

  
  


“This week’s just been a complete blur. I, god you’re not going to like this but just promise you’ll try and understand my reasons?”

  
  


“Mike?” I frowned, “What is it?”

  
  


“Ed was there when I got home. I wish I’d gone home with you instead, I really do.”

  
  


“Mike please tell me he didn’t touch you…”

  
  


“No,” Mike was quick to shake his head, “No he didn’t touch me at all.”

  
  


“That’s good,” I nodded, “But Mike, that guy raped you. How can you even stand to be in the same room as him?”

  
  


Mike’s gaze shifted to the ground for a second, “It wasn’t me he had come to see. Not initially anyway. Seems like my Mom had really bitten off more than she could chew. Heath had upped and left, leaving her with a debt. She owed Ed money again and fuck, I’m not talking a couple of hundred,” he paused, “She owed him five thousand.”

  
  


“What?!” I gasped, “Please tell me you’re kidding?”

  
  


“I wish I was. I don’t even know what she owed it for. It could be anything from crack to speed to alcohol - I just don’t know. All I do know is that when I got home that evening, Ed was there with this guy called Skeet. Skeet’s…”

  
  


“I know who Skeet is,” I mumbled; everyone knew who Skeet was - even the people from innocent, sheltered backgrounds who thought playing poker and drinking shandy was hardcore - even they knew who he was. The biggest dealer of town, one of the rulers of the streets of downtown LA.

  
  


Mike nodded, “Turns out that Ed was dealing for Skeet and taking a cut. You know how it works - only Ed hadn’t been getting the money off my Mom and therefore, Skeet, kingpin and fucking leader of this fucked up drugs scene hadn’t been getting his money. My mom was a wreck. She was jacked up on Lord only knows what. So I turn up and Ed had apparently sold me as some sort of rent boy to Skeet,” he stopped, “I mean, what do I deserve really?”

  
  


“Mike you’re not like that…”

  
  


He sighed and his eyes glazed over, “Chester you know as well as I do that giving people hand jobs in return for money makes you a whore…”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“So what could I do hey? Either I went with Skeet or they blew my Mom’s brains out and decorated the walls with her blood and guts.”

  
  


“Fuck Mike! You should have called me, I could have helped…”

  
  


“Chester you couldn’t have helped. You’re as broke as I am…”

  
  


“So what happened then?”

  
  


“I spent the week with Skeet. I’ll spare you the details but the debt has been erased.”

  
  


“Mike? Did he hurt you?” I asked frantically.

  
  


Mike shook his head. So far he’d been holding it together pretty well but the first signs of tears were starting to appear in the corners of his eyes.

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


“No,” he sniffed, “He didn’t hurt me. In fact he was the most gentle person I’ve ever been with,” he gulped, “He’s got this mansion up in the hills. It’s huge with a pool and tennis courts, there’s at least seven bathrooms and every room has a TV in it… Everyone thinks he’s some sadistic bastard who’d kill you if you look at him the wrong way - it’s just a front though,” he smiled wryly, “We slept together, we did some other things, nothing nasty though. We ate and lounged about. We talked and watched the sunset. I was so fucking scared when I got into his car the first time. I honestly didn’t think I was going to make it back alive. I was shaking when we arrived at his house. But you know what? He just wanted some company. He didn’t want to hurt me or inebriate me. No drugs, no alcohol, nothing chemical at all. He was just lonely.”

  
  


“Fuck,” I uttered, “So are you okay? I mean he didn’t hurt you, you promise…”

  
  


“He even used protection.”

  
  


I stared back, a little lost for words.

  
  


“I haven’t done any drugs or drunk any booze for six days Chester. I’ve been sober all week and that’s how it’s going to stay. I stopped off to check on my Mom this morning. She was drunk, she’d smashed up the entire place. I spent about three hours cleaning it up. I’ve packed my final belongings into a box, there wasn’t much really because I think most of it’s on your bedroom floor anyway,” he smiled sheepishly, “I filled the fridge for her and tipped all her vodka down the sink. She was so wasted that she didn’t even know who I was. Christ, I could have been anyone,” he paused again, “I’ve said goodbye to her Chester,” he stopped briefly and looked me in the eyes, “I’m not going back there. I’m not going to see her for a long time. If it’s okay with you I’d like to stay with you more permanently when we’re off this tour - we could even get a place together with the others? I just, God I feel so selfish but --”

  
  


“No Mike,” I hushed him, “I think it’s a good idea. You need to start living your life. You’ve spent most of it looking after her and I hate to say it but she doesn’t appreciate you Mike. You’re supposed to be the child and I know she’s ill and can’t control her emotions a lot of the time but that’s no excuse for the drug abuse. It’s no excuse for getting your son hooked on chemicals.”

  
  


“Thank you,” Mike whispered, tears now running down his cheeks, “For saying all of that, for not thinking I’m selfish. It took me all week to come to this decision. I just, I can’t go back there. I’ve got to leave her for now, I think it’s the best thing for both of us. I’m trying to get clean Chester, I really am and this band, this means everything to me. I really want this to work.”

  
  


I smiled at him and dug into my pocket for a tissue. He took it and dabbed at his eyes, smiling wearily at me.

  
  


“You’re doing the right thing,” I nodded giving his hand a gentle squeeze, “And it’ll get easier, I know it will.”

  
  


“Are you two coming with us or do we have to go on as an instrumental group?!”

  
  


We both started laughing as Rob’s comment came hollering over to us from where he was standing in the parking lot with a look of annoyance on his face.

  
  


“You ready?” I asked, slinging my arm around Mike’s waist.

  
  


“Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah I am.”

  
  


I followed him into the van, my nostrils greeted by the smell of squeaky clean leather and factory fresh interiors. The small kitchenette area was amply equipped and I dragged my baggage through it; past the small fold out table and into the back area which housed six bunks in total; two either side and two in front of me. I chose the bottom one to my left and dropped my bags on it, as if staking claim. The van was still pretty small, make no mistake about it, but I was more than grateful.

  
  


Normally newly signed bands were given hand-me-downs, complete with vomit stained carpets and awful smells that no one could find the source of. This was clean, practical and small, I noted as the others had now piled on and were dumping bags and rifling through the cupboards - which were empty except for a box of teabags and a half eaten packet of cookies.

  
  


I slipped into my bunk, curling my knees up to my chest and unzipped the smaller of the two suitcases. Someone stuck a CD into the boom box and as the doors were locked and the windows wound down, the sounds of Faith No More drifted through the van. Rocky started the engine and soon we were pulling out onto the highway. I leant back against the wall for a while, stopped searching through my bag for the book I was reading and closed my eyes.

  
  


This was it.

  
  


I could feel something uneasy settling in the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure if it was just apprehension or something more. Whatever it was though, I managed to successfully push it to the back of my mind and by the time we were coasting along the highway, eating cookies and playing obscenely loud music, I’d forgotten all about it.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


“Chester… Chester?”

  
  


“Mmm… What?”

  
  


“Wake up.”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Come on Chester.”

  
  


“Go ‘way.”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“I mean it Phi.”

  
  


“Nope.”

  
  


“Ugh,” I groaned and cracked my eyes open.

  
  


“Finally,” Phoenix grinned from where he’d crammed himself into my bunk, “I bought you some food. We stopped at the gas station on the edge of town but you were out of it. Late night was it?”

  
  


“No,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes and slowly sitting up, careful not to hit my head on the bed above me.

  
  


“Chocolate,” Phi smiled, passing me a bar, “You okay?”

  
  


“Yeah. Just tired. I didn’t sleep too well last night. Where are we?”

  
  


“I have no idea. Mike’s doing the map reading so we could be anywhere,” he chuckled, “You sure you’re okay? You seem a little out of it.”

  
  


“I’m fine,” I smiled, “Just sleepy,” I yawned, hoping he’d get the hint.

  
  


I really wasn’t in the mood to be sociable. I had too much on my mind and had spent most of the journey so far churning things over. Mike was finally seeing that he was being dragged down by his Mother and it had felt so weird to see him telling me he was going to quit drugs. Weird? Yeah it felt weird because for the first time I actually believed him and I wasn’t sure what kind of friend that made me. Sure I’d taken the times he’d said that before to be true but he’d always stumbled back into my life a few days later either drunk or stoned or spewing up alcohol. This time though there had been something there, some undeniable edge to his words or the way he’d looked at me which made me truly believe in him.

  
  


“I’ll leave you to eat that in peace.”

  
  


“Huh? Oh sorry Phi,” I smiled, tugging him back into my bunk, “Don’t go,” I pouted, “I’m not feeling very talkative at the moment but I could do with the company.”

  
  


“Well,” he smiled, “We don’t have to talk…”

  
  


“Uh-huh,” I shook my head, “Not with the others around!”

  
  


“Oh come on,” he winked, “They won’t notice a thing. Besides, Rob’s set on deafening us all with Faith No More.”

  
  


“What’s wrong with Faith No More?!”

  
  


“Nothing! I just…”

  
  


“I’d so fuck Mike Patton,” I smirked.

  
  


“You would?” Phi asked, screwing his face up.

  
  


“Wouldn’t you?”

  
  


“No,” he shook his head, “I prefer pale and interesting. Innocent looking--”

  
  


“Fuck off,” I laughed.

  
  


“What?! I was paying you a compliment.”

  
  


“Trying to get in my pants more like.”

  
  


“Well, there is that as well,” he grinned.

  
  


My mind wandered for a second. Here I was, lying in a very small bunk with a guy who I’d started to become infatuated with and said guy was trying to have sex with me. This didn’t happen to me. Ever. No, I was the guy who was ignored and left to rot away with all the crumby people in life. It still didn’t make it right though, did it? That I was having some sordid affair with this guy. It’s just that, besides wondering where the hell Mike had been, beside arguing with my parents about this tour - I’d spent a lot of the last week realising that what Phi and I were doing was wrong.

  
  


My thoughts were broken when Phi’s lips pressed against my forehead. Before I could react he was pushing his fingers against my lips, hushing me before he replaced them with his own lips. I groaned and felt my eyes closing.

  
  


“I’m really not in the mood…”

  
  


Phoenix hushed me with his lips.

  
  


“Mnph…”

  
  


“Sssh,” Phi whispered, flicking his tongue out.

  
  


“But…”

  
  


He pulled away and smiled at me, “But what?!”

  
  


“I think we should be careful y’know? I don’t want any friction between the others, especially Brad…”

  
  


“Okay,” Phi smiled, “I’ll settle for some cuddling then?”

  
  


I smiled and shifted up in the bunk, allowing Phoenix to slide down beside me and wrap his arms around my body. It was cramped and I could feel the engine vibrating beneath my legs but it didn’t matter.

  
  


“Is Mike okay?” Phi asked, “He’s looking a lot happier today.”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “I think he is.”

  
  


“That’s good… What about you?”

  
  


“Huh?”

  
  


“Are you feeling happier?”

  
  


“I guess…”

  
  


“I could make you happier if you…”

  
  


“Pack it in!”

  
  


“Meanie…”

  
  


“Phi, no amount of sulking is going to get you what you want. Take a cold shower or something,” I laughed, elbowing him playfully in the stomach.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” he was clearly grinning, “I just thought that what with three whole months ahead of us, we could get to know each other better…”

  
  


“I don’t think the others would approve…”

  
  


“Is this what this is all about?”

  
  


I twisted my body around so I was facing him, “What do you mean?”

  
  


“I mean are you trying to keep this a secret from them?”

  
  


“Of course I am, aren‘t you?”

  
  


“Yes but at the same time I don’t know if I’m going to be able to keep my hands off you…”

  
  


“Well you’ll have to.”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“Phi,” I sighed, “I like you a lot.”

  
  


“But?”

  
  


“But I think you need to start thinking about your girlfriend.”

  
  


Phoenix stared back at me blankly, an expression I wasn’t really expecting to be met with. Then again I hadn’t really been expecting those words to tumble out of my lips; they just sort of did.

  
  


Phoenix sighed, “She’s not here though.”

  
  


“No, she’s back home and probably looking forward to seeing you again already.”

  
  


“You’ve changed your tune.”

  
  


“Maybe,” I nodded, “Look, I don’t want to be some home wrecker. Maybe it’s for the best if we keep out of each others way if you can‘t keep your hands from wandering?”

  
  


Phoenix narrowed his eyes, “Are you…”

  
  


“Ending it?” I whispered.

  
  


“Ending it? I’d hardly say we’ve started anything,” he hissed, “Whatever. It’s your fucking loss,” he snarled, snatching his arms away from me and storming out of my bunk.

  
  


I was left staring at the patch where he’d been lying just seconds ago, my heart pounding as I wondered where the fuck all that had come from. Sure, I’d spent the past week thinking things over and realising that I liked Phoenix a lot but that I wasn’t going to play second fiddle to someone else. I’d not, however, planned on telling him any of that nor ending our liaisons before, quite like Phi had said, they’d even begun.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I looked up to see Mike hovering beside my bunk and was quick to realise that the van had stopped moving.  _Please God_ , I thought to myself,  _Please don’t say we’re there already_.

  
  


“Are you okay?”

  
  


“Why have we stopped?”

  
  


“Oh, apparently my map reading is shit,” Mike replied dryly, “Actually, Rocky took a wrong turn because he doesn’t know left from right so now we’re lost. He’s gone to ask for directions. Is everything alright? It’s just that Phoenix practically ran out of here…”

  
  


“Will you shut the curtain?” I asked.

  
  


Mike nodded, his head disappearing from view as he closed the privacy curtain.

  
  


“No you idiot,” I laughed, sticking my hand through and catching his leg, “I meant for you to come in first.”

  
  


“Oh,” Mike chuckled, slipping back and squeezing into the small space beside me.

  
  


“I don’t know why but I just told Phoenix that we should, well, you know stop…”

  
  


“Fucking?”

  
  


“Yes, thanks Mike.”

  
  


“Are you okay?”

  
  


“I don’t know,” I sighed.

  
  


“Come here,” Mike whispered, pulling me towards him.

  
  


“I just started thinking the other night, about how this is it; this is our chance to do things properly. I don’t want to be going on stage night after night with the guilt that I’ve been sleeping with someone else’s man… It didn’t bother me at first but it seems I’ve grown a conscience.”

  
  


“I think you had one before Chester.”

  
  


“But what? It got lost?” I smiled wryly.

  
  


“You like him a lot, don’t you?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “I do.”

  
  


“Then tell him.”

  
  


“But he’s already got someone…”

  
  


“And do you think he was really happy with her if he came to you?”

  
  


“He said he was confused…”

  
  


“Tell him to join the club,” Mike smiled, “That’s not the only reason, is it?”

  
  


“No,” I shook my head, aware of the tears that were welling up behind my eyes, “I can’t do it. I can’t be with anyone because I’m scared.”

  
  


“What of?”

  
  


“Of being hurt.”

  
  


“It’s okay. I think most of us are afraid of that.”

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“Yes,” Mike nodded, “I think it’s a reflex reaction.”

  
  


Mike and I had had this conversation a thousand times before, so he knew what I meant and he knew that for the next ten or fifteen minutes I was going to be this sobbing mess in his arms. He always knew what to say and really, I think that’s all I was looking for; his reassurance.

  
  


“I miss him,” I sniffed.

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


“I’m sorry.”

  
  


“Don’t be,” Mike smiled softly, “That’s why you broke things off with Phi, isn’t it? Not just because of Sophie? Because of Josh?”

  
  


“I tried,” I whispered, “I tried to push him out of my mind but I couldn’t. I want to move on, I really do but - but I knew that at the end of this tour Phi would be going back home to his girlfriend and I would’ve fallen that bit deeper for him. Then I’d be left again…”

  
  


“You’ve just got to keep on trying,” Mike told me, “It’s got to get easier at some point.”

  
  


“It did y’know,” I sniffed, wiping my eyes, “I didn’t think of Josh for a few weeks - then last week it all came back and I could just picture him watching me and being really disappointed in me.”

  
  


“Disappointed? I think he’d be proud.”

  
  


“Proud?” I frowned.

  
  


“Yes. Proud that you’re getting on with your life and that you’re such a good friend.”

  
  


“But he wouldn’t be proud of me for fucking Phoenix.”

  
  


“Chester it’s hardly the crime of the year!”

  
  


“I know, I know, I’m being melodramatic aren’t I?”

  
  


“It’s one of your best features,” Mike laughed.

  
  


“Thanks.”

  
  


“Do what makes you happy for once.”

  
  


“Huh?”

  
  


“You heard,” Mike squeezed me, “Man these bunks are uncomfortable.”

  
  


“I know,” I nodded, trying to process his previous words.

  
  


“I think we might end up crippled by the end of the summer.”

  
  


“Phoenix was making me happy…”

  
  


“I know he was.”

  
  


“You think I should re-think what I said?”

  
  


“I think you should figure that out for yourself. I can’t tell you what to do or feel.”

  
  


“Neither can I at times.”

  
  


“Maybe think about it a little while longer? Focus on the gigs - that’s what I’m doing. It’s going to be harder than I thought to give up drugs and booze.”

  
  


“Are you feeling okay?”

  
  


“I think so. I had to force myself to stop on here when we stopped at the gas station though. I was so scared of going into the store and buying something to drink.”

  
  


“Well I’m proud of you,” I smiled, “And if it makes things any easier, I’m going to join you in sobering up.”

  
  


“Really?”

  
  


“Yup,” I grinned, “No more drugs, booze - I can still smoke, right?”

  
  


“Yes,” Mike laughed, “There’s no way I’m quitting cigarettes!”

  
  


“I think I might take up celibacy as well.”

  
  


“I think I’ll pass on that.”

  
  


“Whore.”

  
  


“Dick.”

  
  


“Asshat.”

  
  


“Fucktard.”

  
  


“I think we’re moving again,” I paused as I felt the van lurching forward, followed by the juddering sensation beneath my leg as they engine kicked in.

  
  


“Your bunk vibrates,” Mike smirked, “Maybe you don’t need to get intimate with anyone if you sleep in here?”

  
  


“Pervert,” I laughed, smacking him in the stomach.

  
  


“Mike? Mike? Where did you put the map?”

  
  


The sound of Rob shouting down the entire van filled our ears and seconds later the drummer yanked the curtain open and stuck his head into the small space.

  
  


“We are so lost,” he rolled his eyes, “Where’s the map?”

  
  


“I left it with Joe.”

  
  


“Joe?”

  
  


“Yes, you know the other Asian one,” Mike deadpanned.

  
  


“Is your bunk vibrating?” Rob asked.

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“Cool. If we suck and don’t make any money Mike could bring back his men - we could use it like a rocking bed, y’know like in those dodgy motels where you put a coin in and…”

  
  


“Rob where’s the map?” Joe yelled from the front of the bus.

  
  


“You have it,” Rob called back, wondering away.

  
  


“Shit,” I shook my head, “Is this what the next few months are going to be like?”

  
  


“Oh don’t worry about it,” Mike laughed, “I mean it could be worse,” he paused, “Actually no it couldn’t!”

  
  


“Oh, it could,” I chipped in, “It could be last summer when we did that two week tour across the east coast and the van broke and crashed into that diner?”

  
  


“Don’t remind me. I still have the scars.”

  
  


“At least you weren’t getting jiggy with yourself at the time,” I cringed as I recalled the event.

  
  


It was mid July and almost midnight when our van was bombing down some highway. I was hot and, well, horny. So I was getting rid of some pent-up emotions and quite enjoying myself until Mike managed to drive our van into some thankfully derelict diner.

  
  


“How was I to know you were having a wank?!”

  
  


“You weren’t,” I glowered at him, “You also weren’t supposed to crash the van and knock me out of my bunk either…”

  
  


“It was quite funny…”

  
  


“Yeah really funny!” I nodded, sarcasm dripping from my every word.

  
  


“Okay maybe having the rest of the band see you stark naked wasn’t funny and maybe smashing into that diner and then reversing out and bombing down the road to get away wasn’t  _that_  funny…”

  
  


“I wonder if they’re still hunting for who did it?”

  
  


“I doubt it. I did them a favour. That place was the pits anyway, they probably had a nice feast on the insurance money!”

  
  


“Well just don’t go crashing this van for God’s sake.”

  
  


“I don’t think Rocky’s letting me behind the wheel.”

  
  


“Good because you sucked at guitar when your arm was broken.”

  
  


“You still suck,” A voice came from above us.

  
  


‘Brad’ Mike mouthed and I turned my nose up, almost like some kind of instant reaction. I dreaded to think how long he’d been sitting up there listening to not only our conversation, but the one I’d been having before with Phoenix. Great.

  
  
  
  


+

  
  
  
  


The venue was tiny - it was also packed to the rafters. I felt sick to the stomach with nerves and had spent the past fifteen minutes pacing up and down a derelict corridor, trying to calm myself. It wasn’t working at all though. I couldn’t recall a time when I’d felt this nauseated before a show. Usually I got the jitters and spaced out about ten minutes before we were due to go on stage. Unfortunately, I’d felt this way ever since Rocky had parked our van behind the venue and it was getting worse by the minute. I even wished we’d been late because that way I would’ve been distracted by that frantic rush of getting our gear onto the small stage and hastily getting changed. But no, for probably the first time in our band’s lifespan we had been three hours early. We still had another half hour to go and I wasn’t feeling any better about things.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I turned around from where I’d been staring at a spot of cracked paint as Mike stuck his head out of the broom cupboard-come-dressing room that the rest of the band were crammed into.

  
  


“You want me to do your make up now?”

  
  


I took a deep breath and nodded. I was too scared to open my mouth to speak in case I projectile vomited everywhere. Wiping my clammy palms down the front of my trousers I told myself to chill, which was a fucking impossible thing for me to do, in all honesty, and followed Mike back into the small room.

  
  


The inside stank of stale cigarettes and bleach - someone had obviously tried to brighten the place up with cleaning products. I let the door click behind me and climbed over Joe who was lying on the floor and chatting on his cell phone and gazed around at the badly painted white walls, one of which was covered in an ornate Indian sari that was tacked up with pins. Along the far wall ran a hastily assembled kitchen worktop with a panel of mirrors behind it, reflecting my green looking complexion as Mike pulled a chair out and I sat down.

  
  


“Did you meet Coby yet?” Mike asked as he tilted my head back and started applying liberal amounts of white foundation to my face.

  
  


I shook my head.

  
  


“Keep still,” Mike murmured, gliding a sponge across my nose, “He’s really nice, says he’s going to be watching us from the side tonight.”

  
  


I had to suddenly grip onto the arms of the chair. As if I hadn’t felt any pressure before- that was certainly adding to my ever increasing heart rate.

  
  


“He’s pretty hot too,” Mike lowered his voice, “Close your eyes,” he paused, gliding his fingers over my eyelids, “I think you’d like him.”

  
  


“I told you,” I groaned, “I’m off men.”

  
  


“You’re  _what_?”

  
  


That was Rob who sat down heavily on the chair beside me as Mike told me I could open my eyes. I blinked as he stood back and scrutinized his handy work before turning back to pick up a stick of kohl.

  
  


“Are you kidding me?”

  
  


Mike pressed the edge of the pencil against my lower eyelid, “He’s going straight,” Mike answered for me, “Going to get himself a lady friend.”

  
  


“No. Way.”

  
  


“Yes. Way,” Mike mimicked, over imitating Rob’s shocked tones.

  
  


“No I’m not,” I smiled, “I’m just not going near  _anyone_  period.”

  
  


“That’s a pity,” Rob sighed much to Mike’s amusement who laughed at the drummer.

  
  


“What?” rob asked, genuinely confused.

  
  


“Nothing,” Mike grinned.

  
  


“Hey again everyone.”

  
  


I turned slightly as the door opened and felt my mouth dropping as an extremely good looking man walked in and began chatting to Rocky.

  
  


“Told you that you’d like him,” Mike smirked, grabbing my chin and turning my head back to face him.

  
  


“That’s Coby?”

  
  


“Yup.”

  
  


“Like you could ever be straight,” Rob tutted.

  
  


“Hey! You must be Chester?”

  
  


I turned back as Coby strode over to me; grey wife beater clinging to his body in all the right places; black pants hanging off his hips; deep, dark eyes and slightly tanned skin. I felt my mouth drying up.

  
  


“Hey Coby,” I croaked, “Nice to meet you.”

  
  


_Nice_? I inwardly cringed as he stopped beside me and held out his hand. Great, not only was he Mr. Fuckable but he also had the charm and manners, of a very, very nice young gentleman. I shook his hand, grimacing at the fact that my palms were still clammy and I was visibly shaking with pre-show nerves.

  
  


“So are you guys looking forward to the tour?”

  
  


“Yeah I think it’s going to be fucking rad,” Rob nodded enthusiastically.

  
  


“Yeah I think it is,” Coby nodded, “Just thought I’d let you know that we’re having an after show party tonight. Probably not as cool as it sounds though!” he chuckled, “But we’ll be hanging out with some of our fans and probably getting a bit drunk too. Hope to see you there,” he grinned at Mike, then at me.

  
  


Suddenly my nerves had disappeared and as Mike smeared glitter across my cheeks and Coby sat down on the floor and quizzed us incessantly about our band’s history I thought to myself, fuck, this is going to be one hell of a ride.

  
  


+

  
  


I wasn’t wrong.


	11. faster than I can

Three weeks of sharing a van with four of my closest friends, a manager and a guy I’d rather didn’t exist within this universe was starting to take its toll on me. After my initial pre-show nerves, the opening gig had gone down quite well. It had taken us a while to get the crowd moving and a lot for me to ignore the chants of ‘you’re just another nancy boy’ that had started to immerge midway through our set. However, seventeen shows later, I could swear that some of the people watching us were even starting to sing the lyrics to our songs. That alone made me want to piss myself with excitement.

  
  


It was Tuesday, a little after one pm and our first day off in over ten days. So Rocky had driven us to a diner on the way to our venue for the next day and we’d pulled into the parking lot little over an hour ago, strangely excited at the prospect of food. Seriously, no matter how greasy, it had to be better than bags of stale chips and the fact that there was a launderette across the street had also strangely brightened our spirits. To say our clothes were starting to smell a little was an understatement.

  
  


“Good morning,” Mike smiled, plonking himself down next to me on the kerbside where I’d decided to have a cigarette before filling my stomach full of cholesterol.

  
  


“Afternoon,” I corrected, passing him my cigarette, “Sleep well?”

  
  


“Like a baby,” he grinned, blowing a cloud of grey smoke out from between his lips, “I think I’ve just about adjusted to sleeping in a bunk.”

  
  


“Me too,” I sighed, distracted by Phoenix who was hurtling across the highway towards us, his hands full of groceries that he’d obviously been stocking up on in the mini-market.

  
  


“Hey,” he nodded at Mike as he walked past us and headed towards the van.

  
  


“You two still not talking?” Mike asked, passing my smoke back.

  
  


“Clearly not,” I shrugged.

  
  


“Don’t let it get to you. It’s not every day he gets the brush off from a hunk.”

  
  


“Shut up!” I laughed as he nudged me in the side.

  
  


Laughing aside, I was really fucking missing him. Even before when we were just  _very_  good friends he’d always been there for me to chat to about anything and I missed the fact that he suddenly wasn’t there anymore in any way, shape or form. I’d tried to talk to him several times but he seemed to have suddenly surrounded himself by Brad or Rob and was impossible to reach.

  
  


“He’s alone in there you know,” Mike’s voice interrupted my thoughts; almost like he’d been reading my mind.

  
  


“I don’t know…”

  
  


“Just talk to him Chester. I don’t think I can stomach seeing you like this anymore.”

  
  


“What do you mean?”

  
  


“You, my friend, do not hide anything from me. You may be having a blast of a time and enjoying the last few weeks but I know that you’re not truly happy at the moment. Go and talk to him.”

  
  


“Okay,” I nodded, passing him my cigarette, “But if this all goes wrong then I am holding you personally responsible - you better have a good supply of chocolate for me to binge on if this ends in tears…”

  
  


“Oh shut up you fucking queen,” Mike laughed, “Get your sorry ass in there.”

  
  


I slapped him on the back and got to my feet, brushing the roadside dust from my jeans before crossing the parking lot and hesitantly climbing into the van.

  
  


Phoenix was packing boxes of cereals into the cupboards in the kitchenette area. He didn’t stop as I stood beside him, watching him place boxes of Frosties onto the counter. He knew damn well I was there but carried on regardless until the bags were empty and he was pushing the cupboard doors shut. I didn’t doubt that he would quite happily tear all the boxes from the cupboard and restack them again if it avoided acknowledging me.

  
  


“Phi,” I eventually sighed.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


I stared at him; he couldn’t even look at me. This was clearly going to end up in me spending our free day barricaded in my bunk with a box of cigarettes and a family sized bar of Hershey’s.

  
  


“Can we talk?”

  
  


Finally, he looked at me.

  
  


“What’s there to talk about Chester? You made your feelings clear. I have a girlfriend, you don’t want to be involved with me, no matter how much I fucking like you,” he paused, “End of.”

  
  


I stared back, my mouth slightly open because I’d never actually thought of what Phi had wanted in this situation. I’d not even discussed it with him. I’d just assumed that he didn’t care for me one bit.

  
  


“Can I get past?”

  
  


“No, wait,” I gushed, “Phi I am so fucking sorry. That was selfish of me -- I just assumed that you…”

  
  


“That I didn’t care about you?”

  
  


“Well no, I…”

  
  


“I don’t just fuck  _anyone_  Chester.”

  
  


“I’m sorry.”

  
  


Phi sighed. He glanced down to the floor, then at me, then back at the floor again.

  
  


“No, I’m sorry,” he sighed, “I’ve been acting out of character, I know I have. I wanted to talk to you, I really did but I don’t feel like we’ve stopped to pause for breath for the past few weeks.”

  
  


“Tell me about it.”

  
  


Phoenix smiled back and a long silence drifted between us, one which was finally broken as he started to speak.

  
  


“Look Chester, you were right. We did have something but it was rushed,” he paused to look at me.

  
  


“So,” I sighed, “Can we at least still be friends?” I asked, clutching onto any hope that may have been in his voice.

  
  


“Is that all you want?”

  
  


I paused, trying to read Phi’s expression but sadly it gave nothing away.

  
  


“If it’s all we can have, then yes,” I replied though part of me wanted to scream out ‘ _No, you fucking idiot because I’ve fallen for you and I don’t even know why_ ’ but I managed to restrain myself and instead stared at a dirty coffee mug that was sitting in the sink. It was probably one of Rob’s. He’d taken to drinking copious amounts of strong, black coffee in the mornings to wake himself up.

  
  


“Are you listening to me?”

  
  


“Sorry?” I jumped, my eyes flicking back to Phoenix as he ran a hand over his shaven head.

  
  


“We really messed things up, didn’t we?” he asked me with a tired glance.

  
  


“Yup,” I smiled sadly.

  
  


“Come here,” he sighed, opening his arms.

  
  


I willingly stepped forward and closed the gap between us. Phoenix wrapped his arms around my back and I slid my hands around his waist, breathing out deeply as I rested my head against his shoulder. This felt so good.

  
  


“Why don’t we take things as they come?” I found myself unintentionally murmuring out aloud.

  
  


I could feel Phi smiling against me and drew my head back a little to look into his eyes.

  
  


“Yeah?” I asked hesitantly, still not able to fully read his expression.

  
  


He nodded his head though and pulled me closer. I honestly didn’t mean to but the next minute I was pushing my lips against his. He didn’t protest and what started off as gentle, heartfelt and apologetic kisses fast turned into something more; something deep and needy. I felt my hands clawing at Phi’s waist, fingers digging into his sides as his tongue flicked out and danced between my lips.

  
  


“We shouldn’t,” Phoenix uttered.

  
  


“I know,” I heard myself groaning.

  
  


“Not out here…My bunk…”

  
  


“Mmph…”

  
  


We stumbled through the kitchen, hands now clawing at one another’s bodies as our kisses became more frenzied. I tore away only to push Phi into his bunk and to peel off my shirt which I tossed aside carelessly before crawling on top of Phoenix.

  
  


“I’ve missed this,” he murmured as I lay atop of him and trailed kisses along his jawbone.

  
  


“Me too,” I hummed, flicking my tongue against the soft skin of his neck.

  
  


Phi let out an appreciative moan and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer. I pressed my lips against his and for the next few minutes we explored one another’s bodies all over again; kissing and touching and sliding against one another until Phi rolled me over and pinned me down with his hands. I could feel my heart pounding as we lay there panting; Phi staring lustfully down at me.

  
  


“You should take off your shirt,” I murmured.

  
  


“You should take off your pants,” he responded as he slowly pulled his T-Shirt up over his head and allowed it to drop feather-like to the floor.

  
  


I groaned as he leant down and kissed me again, his warm hands trailing down my bare chest, sliding back and forth over my stomach; dipping lower and lower by the second.

  
  


“Shit…” I uttered as his hand slid over the bulge in my pants. It had been way too long since he’d done this and I arched my back as his fingers slid open my zipper and teased my erection out of my boxer shorts.

  
  


I closed my eyes as his lips lazily trailed down to my neck and he began to stroke me; teasing his thumb over the tip of my erection. I bucked my hips in time with his gentle movements and found my hands sliding across his bare back and down to the flimsy mattress beneath our writhing bodies; fingers clawing and grasping at the bed sheets. This felt better than I’d remembered and yes, I had been thinking about it a lot lately.

  
  


I groaned as Phi roughly pushed down my jeans and shoved my legs apart; his strong hands pinning them down as he stared at me for a few minutes with lust filled eyes. My erection was throbbing and it was taking every little last bit of restraint not to reach down and get myself off right there in front of him. Just the thought of it had me gulping for air. Phoenix licked his lips and let go of my legs; there would definitely be bruises there in the morning. He pushed down his pants; revealing not only a lack of any underwear but his very impressive erection. I gulped and slid my hands up to his thighs, biting my lip as he began to stroke himself; his eyes not leaving mine.

  
  


“Please…” I groaned, arching my back.

  
  


“Please what?” he uttered and the sight of him on bended knees with his hand pumping up and down his cock was enough to render me speechless.

  
  


“…”

  
  


He smiled, slid his hand off his erection, down his thigh until it met with my fingertips. Then he was leaning back, sliding his hand down the side of the bunk; a jar of Vaseline in his clutch when he’d seized what he’d been searching for. He wasted no time in removing the lid and I propped myself up by elbows as I watched his fingers slide into the tub before they wrapped around his erection the first time; dipped inside me the second time.

  
  


I gasped at the cool sensation and tilted my head back as the familiar stinging sensation that always accompanied this pleasurable act kicked in. Phi’s fingers scissored inside me, bent around and flicked teasingly against the spot within me that made me tingle and moan in a withering mess against the creased sheets.

  
  


Phi’s fingers slid out; the jar dropped to the floor and rolled away and he pushed my legs further apart. His lips brushed against mine as he pushed the tip of his burning erection against my entrance and with one sharp movement he was inside me and I was gasping out in an indescribable blend of pleasure and pain.

  
  


His lips moved in sync with mine and for a few moments he stayed still, his hands sliding up and down my sides. Finally they rested against my hips as he started to move. I groaned and writhed beneath him as he pushed deeper inside me and bent my legs further apart; his fingernails roughly digging into my thighs before they slid away and his hands pressed down against mine.

  
  


“Phi…”

  
  


He hushed me as his tongue flicked between my lips, teasing me as he slowed down his movements. I was starting to feel hazy and my eyes were starting to flicker and close just as he slammed himself deep inside me and hit the exact spot. I was seeing fucking stars.

  
  


After that his hands were all over me, pinching, teasing, caressing and clawing at every inch of my body. I wound my arms around his waist, sliding clammy hands up and down his spine as he began to speed up his movements; hitting my spot every time and Christ, if he went any deeper inside me I thought I might just explode.

  
  


“Shit,” he uttered against my lips, “I’m gonna…”

  
  


His words hung in the air and his body tensed for one last time as he reached his climax. I felt overwhelmed as he spilled his seed inside of me and bit the inside of my mouth to stop myself from crying out as my own orgasm toppled from within me; spilling out and sending waves of deep pleasure down my spine to the tips of my toes.

  
  


We lay there elated and breathless for what seemed like forever. Phi was the first to move, gently pulling out of me and rolling onto his side. I watched him through half closed eyes as he trailed his fingers across my stomach then gently planted his lips against mine. We kissed softly, our lips lazily grazing together as time lapsed around us and for a few moments I felt insatiable, a feeling that was quick to crash down to Earth as Phi’s cell phone began to ring.

  
  


“I better get that,” He smiled, sitting up and pulling the small, silver phone from the pocket of his previously discarded pants.

  
  


“Hey… Yeah are you? No I haven’t…” he paused and started to rummage around the bunk, grabbing his clothes, “No I can’t… What? You’re fucking shitting me? Hang on a second,” he paused again and slid out the bunk, glancing back at me, “I’ll just be a moment…” his voice trailed off as he disappeared into the small toilet section, the door clicking shut behind him.

  
  


I strained my ears as I slowly dressed, picking up nothing but laughter and tones of astonishment. My Mother had told me it was rude to listen into other people’s phone calls but when I pulled my t-shirt over my head and fastened my pants and heard the words ‘EMI’ coming from behind the thin door, I couldn’t help but stop and listen.

  
  


“But you told me it was Electric Ballroom… I mean that’s what you said… You’re kidding me, right? You’re telling me that EMI are interested? What? Of course that makes my mind up… No, that’s not true. It was pretty much decided before, what with Chester flipping out on me, that‘s enough to drive anyone away… No, I just haven’t had the time to chat to them… I know it’s over a week since you told me but that was when it was just Electric Ballroom, now it’s a major! I cannot believe this… Yeah, yeah… Okay, okay, I’ll talk to you later… Bye!”

  
  


I stared at the door, suddenly feeling somewhat queasy. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what Phi’s phone call had been about. I stood back as the door open and Phoenix reappeared fully dressed and shoving his phone back into his pocket.

  
  


“Hey,” he nodded.

  
  


“ _Hey_?” I scowled.

  
  


He frowned then bit his lip, something that I’d noted he always did when he was about to tell one hell of a fucking lie.

  
  


“So you were listening?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“Maybe we should sit down and…”

  
  


“No. Maybe you should tell me what the hell is going on because from what I gathered your loyalties no longer lie with this band?”

  
  


“Let me explain. Can we sit…”

  
  


“No,” I hissed, interrupting Phi’s softer tones, “We can  _not_  fucking sit down. What’s going on?”

  
  


“I…”

  
  


“Okay. What exactly does ‘What with Chester flipping out on me, that‘s enough to drive anyone away…’ mean?”

  
  


“It’s not what it sounds like.”

  
  


“Oh really?” I nodded, “Well from where I’m standing it sounds very much like you are fucking us all over.”

  
  


“Me fucking you over?” Phi suddenly growled, catching my off guard, “That’s fucking rich Chester. You really have no idea do you? I’ve been playing with Tasty Snax for years.”

  
  


“And so we mean nothing?” I sighed and crossed my arms like a fucking child.

  
  


“No but they mean…” he stopped.

  
  


“More,” I finished off for him, “But did they mean more when we got signed? Or do they only mean more because they’ve got the bigwigs of EMI sniffing around them?” I spat.

  
  


“This could be our big break.”

  
  


“And what about Hybrid Theory?”

  
  


“Chester there are plenty of other bass players out there…”

  
  


“Yeah? So tell that to your  _other_  band?”

  
  


“Chaz… Fuck I don’t want to!”

  
  


“So what, when were you going to tell us hey?”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“You heard! Apparently you’ve known all week, so when  _were_  you going to say something?”

  
  


“I wasn’t sure. It’s been a lot to think about. Chaz,” his voice softened, “I‘m torn between two bands who I love. Two bands who I want to play for.”

  
  


“Really? It’s just that I thought I heard you say you’d more or less made your mind up and as soon as you heard the big record company were handing you a deal on a platter you seemed pretty sure,” I snapped, my voice rising.

  
  


“Yeah well is it surprising with the way you’ve been treating me? Maybe this is the fucking golden ticket I need out of here,” he hissed, suddenly inching closer to me.

  
  


“So what about that?” I gulped, pointing toward his bunk, “Did that mean  _nothing_  to you?” I shouted, waving my arms wildly in the air.

  
  


“What do you think?” he growled.

  
  


“I don’t know anymore. I don’t fucking know. So what happens next Phi? Do you pack your things and jump onto the next bus home without a word? Is that how it’s going to be? You leave your fucking band mates, your  _best friends_  high and dry?”

  
  


“I was going to tell everyone,” he sighed, his voice softening.

  
  


“And what about me?” I asked, my own voice finally cracking, “Was it always going to be this way?”

  
  


“Chester,” he whispered, “It wasn’t meant to happen like this. When we came on tour I had my mind made up once and for all. It was you and the band. Then you pushed me away because you didn’t trust me and you thought I was going to hurt you?”

  
  


I frowned. Had he been talking to Mike?

  
  


“That made a huge impact on my decision at first. I thought it might make things easier…”

  
  


“Then why did you just FUCK me?” I yelled, tears suddenly spilling down my cheeks.

  
  


“…”

  
  


“You had it all planned didn’t you?” I screamed, “You always get what you fucking want. All the fucking time,” I seethed.

  
  


“That’s not true Chester and you fucking well know it. I care a lot for you, more than you fucking realise.”

  
  


“Yeah?” I laughed dryly, “You have a funny way of showing it!”

  
  


“You’re the one who ended things!” he yelled incredulously.

  
  


“Because you had a girlfriend.”

  
  


“That didn’t seem to bother you a few minutes ago.”

  
  


“It doesn’t seem to bother you whatsoever.”

  
  


“Go to hell,” he snarled, shaking his head, “And stop trying to take the moral high ground with me.”

  
  


“And that’s supposed to mean what, exactly?”

  
  


“It means that you’re not exactly innocent in all of this and neither have you ever been pure as white in your life. You’ve no grounds to shout at me for being unfaithful when we all know that the reason your beloved Josh topped himself is because he caught you with someone else.”

  
  


I was stunned. Gob smacked. I felt like someone had punched me right in the fucking chest; I literally felt all the air escape from my lungs in one go. Phi’s verbal blow hit me right in the heart and for a moment I was speechless. Feeling the onslaught of tears pricking the corners of my eyes I gulped back down some much needed air. It was only then that I was able to open my mouth.

  
  


“Wh… What?” I frowned, my bottom lip quivering.

  
  


Phi looked at the ground, “Nothing,” he whispered.

  
  


“No it wasn’t  _nothing_ ,” I spoke calmly, “What did you just say?”

  
  


“I.. I shouldn’t, I didn’t mean to it just came out,” he stammered, “Chester I was…”

  
  


“What did you say?” I repeated, my voice firmer this time.

  
  


“Don’t do this…”

  
  


“David,” I whispered, tears spilling from behind my eyes, “Please… What did you say?”

  
  


“You heard me,” he gulped, “I never meant to say it. I am so sorry I…”

  
  


“How do you know?” I asked, suddenly feeling fainter and fainter by the second.

  
  


“My parents are friends with Josh’s parents - you know that.”

  
  


“Yes,” I nodded, my legs suddenly giving way as I collapsed to the floor, “What does that have to do with anything?” I asked, my voice nothing more than a faint whisper.

  
  


“Chester?” Phi shouted frantically, dropping to the hard floor beside me; his hands grabbing me by the shoulders, “Chester are you okay?”

  
  


“Why?” I whispered, “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  
  


“Because I was sworn to secrecy.”

  
  


“But we’re friends Phoenix and you know how much this has been hurting me… Do you mean you’ve known for all these years and you’ve never told me…”

  
  


“I couldn’t Chester. I knew how much it would hurt you.”

  
  


“He knew,” I whispered, “Oh my God he knew!” I shouted frantically, tears racking my body, “How did… How did he?”

  
  


“He left his Mother a note. All it said was that he couldn’t be with you knowing that you’d been with another man. He’d confided in her about it the week before…”

  
  


“But it wasn’t,” I sniffed, “It wasn’t like that! I promise you! I told her what had happened, she knew…”

  
  


“That you were raped,” Phi whispered, “She knew that what Josh had seen was you being raped - but she didn’t know that until after he’d died when your parents found out about it all and told her what had happened…”

  
  


“And, and he thought I was being unfaithful? He thought I was having some kind of affair?” I gasped out, my eyes hurting as my head began to throb with such immense pain, “I’d.. I’d never do that to him… I’d never do that to anyone,” My voice shook as I closed my eyes and screwed them up tight, “He killed himself because of me; because he thought I was cheating on him… I never… I didn’t,” I choked back a sob as I felt Phi’s arms around me.

  
  


“I am so fucking sorry,” Phi whispered, “I didn’t mean to tell you. I was just so angry and fuck I didn‘t mean to say that. I knew you weren‘t cheating on him and…”

  
  


“He died hating me.”

  
  


“Chester don’t do this to yourself,” Phoenix hushed me, rocking my sobbing body against his.

  
  


“But he died thinking I didn’t care for him! He ended his own life because I was stupid enough to let some jock come back to my house after school. He fucking ended everything he had because I was so fucking weak and…”

  
  


“Stop it Chester,” Phi whispered, “Stop it.”

  
  


“I can’t,” I cried, “He left me. Please don’t leave me Phi,” I suddenly gasped out, pushing his arms away from me so that I could see his face, “Please stay, I promise I won’t fuck up this time - I promise you,” I begged, holding his face in my hands, “I don’t think I could cope if you left, I--”

  
  


“Chester don’t,” he shook his head, sliding my hands away from his face. He slowly stood up and ran a hand over his head. I could barely see as I stumbled to my feet and grabbed onto him once again. I’d ruined everything I had with Josh; I couldn’t do it all over again; I had to make this work.

  
  


“Please!” I cried out, “Please say you’ll stay. We work so well together, not just us two but the whole band! I’ll do anything,” I whimpered, “I’ll do anything you want me to,” my voice croaked.

  
  


“Chester don’t do this to me, not now,” Phoenix shook me off again, “I think you should calm down. Come and sit in my bunk.”

  
  


“No. Not until you’ve promised me,” I whined, tears falling quicker and quicker, “Please Phoenix just say you’ll stay and…”

  
  


“I can’t!”

  
  


“What?” I stopped clawing at his arms at this point.

  
  


“Chester.”

  
  


“Oh please,” I cried hysterically, “Just tell me what I did wrong and we can…”

  
  


“Is everything okay? It’s just that I heard screaming and - fuck - what’s happened?”

  
  


I spun around as Mike’s voice entered my head. His eyes were wide with worry and he stepped onto the van, his feet carrying him over to where I was standing, frantically clawing at my own skin now.

  
  


“He’s leaving,” I sniffed, another wave of tears running down my face, “He hates me, just like Josh hated me and…”

  
  


“Chester calm down a minute,” Mike hushed me, stepping forward and grabbing my arms.

  
  


“Don’t,” I shook my head, pushing him away, “I just need to get out of here,” I cleared my throat and wiped away the trail of tears that were meandering down my cheeks, “I’ll be okay,” I whispered, “Just like I’m always okay,” I muttered, pushing past a bewildered looking Mike.

  
  


My head was pounding as I raced out of the van. I could vaguely hear Mike calling after me but I blocked his shouts out of my head. How could Phi have kept that from me? How long had he known? What if the others knew? What if Mike knew? What if they all talked about it behind my back? What if they thought I was callous and deserved for Josh to leave me like that? And what about Josh? What a fucking waste.

  
  


Tears spilled from my eyes. All I’d wanted was to be with him for my entire life. It had never mattered what we might do or where we might live; as long as I was with him then I couldn’t have cared less. I’d spent years and years asking myself WHY he’d done it. And now I knew? It didn’t make me feel any better, it didn’t make anything any easier.

  
  


I felt the crunch of gravel beneath my feet and blinded by tears I carried on walking; unaware of the shouts that were coming from behind me. They were nothing more than blurred sounds as my brain became occupied by Josh. I could picture it all so clearly now. And what should have been a weight off my shoulders was nothing more than a weight that pushed me down; so far down that I was finding it hard to breathe. I could see him smiling, waving at me and making jokes. I could hear his voice calling my name, calm at first then frantically, like he was drowning. I tried to reach out but his shadowy figure was fading right before my eyes. I stretched out my arms, tried to touch the foggy silhouette that was now standing in front of me but all I got was that sickening feeling as I fell forward and my body smashed against the ground.

  
  


“Chester!”

  
  


I groaned and opened my eyes; they were staring down at tarmac and a strange vibration was flowing beneath my body. I slowly raised my head and my eyes widened; I was in the middle of the fucking highway. I struggled to get to my feet; my hands scraping against the rough asphalt surface and I slipped several times, suddenly aware of frantic voices shouting my name - but more aware of the truck that was hurtling towards me. I closed my eyes and gulped; I couldn’t move. I wanted to but my feet had turned to stone. Within a split second I felt my body being pushed sideways, the air being knocked out of me as I crashed to the floor ground and landed heavily on my side.

  
  


“Jesus Chester!”

  
  


I groaned.

  
  


“Rob?”

  
  


I cracked an eye open just as the truck whizzed past and a smudge of green from the grass verge beneath me came into view.

  
  


Rob lay beside me for a few minutes, his arm still wrapped around me. It took that time for me to register that no, I wasn’t dead. And yes, I was lying on a roadside, covered in mud and yes that was my blood that was pouring from my nose. Rob slowly stood up then leant down and heaved me into his arms. Surely I was dead. That’s what I was suddenly thinking to myself as he carried me back across the road and the blurry figures of my band mates rushed over to us.

  
  


“Oh my God, is he okay?”

  
  


That was definitely Mike’s voice. I groaned and struggled in Rob’s arms as the world outside faded away and my eyes became surrounded by the greying interiors of our touring van. I felt myself being placed down, something soft beneath my body as Rob let go of me and stepped back. It’s about that time that I passed out.

  
  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Mike was lying beside me, watching me like a hawk very much like he had been since I came around, all groggy and bleary eyed a couple of hours ago. When I’d opened my eyes I’d found myself in a shady motel room with everyone else sitting around looking serious. They’d since left, Rocky taking off somewhere with Phoenix, the others disappearing back to the van. I’d barely spoken a word since and I didn’t really feel like doing so. In fact, all I really wanted to do was close my eyes and fall into a deep sleep, preferably never waking again.

  
  


However Mike had other ideas and had told me I wasn’t allowed to go to sleep because if I’d suffered a concussion then chances were, I wouldn’t wake up. I’d told him that sounded like a good idea; he’d looked back at me as if I’d stabbed him in the heart and that had been the last words spoken. The silence was really starting to get to me now though.

  
  


“I need some fresh air,” I spoke suddenly.

  
  


“No you don’t,” Mike replied, grabbing my arm so I couldn’t move, “You’re not going anywhere. Rocky’s going to ask where the nearest hospital is. We’ll make a detour when we get back in the van.”

  
  


“I don’t…”

  
  


“Chaz,” Mike sighed.

  
  


“Don’t call me that,” I muttered, my arm falling limp in his clutch as I gave up my struggle and attempts to move.

  
  


“What happened?”

  
  


“You already know,” I sighed, staring up at the cracked ceiling above me.

  
  


“I don’t know a thing.”

  
  


“I don’t want to talk,” I mumbled, hissing at the pain that ripped through my skull as I finished my sentence.

  
  


“Well you freaking better,” Mike snapped, “For God’s sake Chester! I come into the van to find you ripping your own arms to shreds, screaming and crying and before I can even stop you you’re running into the middle of a fucking highway. If Rob hadn’t had seen you’d be road kill,” Mike suddenly stopped and I slowly looked down to my bruised arms, gulping as my eyes saw the red scratch marks that were criss-crossing their way across my skin.

  
  


“I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened. One minute everything was fine, the next I was lying on the ground with Rob,” I swallowed, “Did Phoenix say anything?”

  
  


“Not a word. What did he do to you?”

  
  


“Oh he only fucked me before telling me that he’s quitting the band.”

  
  


“He’s  _what_?”

  
  


“He took a phone call. I overheard him. EMI are going to sign The Snax up. He’s leaving. End of.”

  
  


“Are you sure? You must have got the wrong -- Phoenix wouldn’t do that to us.”

  
  


“He is.”

  
  


“Shit…”

  
  


There was a silence between us for a few moments as Mike sat dumbstruck by my revelation. I managed to slowly sit up and rubbed my eyes with the back of my hands. My vision was still blurred as I shakily got to my feet and crossed the small room to get to the window. The sun was high in the sky, not a cloud to be seen and if none of this shit had happened I would have called it a perfect day. I dug into my back pocket and pulled out a somewhat flattened carton of cigarettes. I’d just lit one up and settled myself into the beat up arm chair that overlooked the window when Mike came over and sat beside me.

  
  


“Is that why you flipped out?”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“What then?”

  
  


“I don’t want to talk about it,” I sighed, exhaling a cloud of grey smoke into the lifeless room.

  
  


“Well I want you to.”

  
  


“Okay, okay,” I cleared my throat, “We argued which lead to him telling me why Josh killed himself.”

  
  


“You… What?” Mike frowned, “How does he even know, he didn’t…”

  
  


“Their parents are close.”

  
  


“ _And_?”

  
  


“Josh thought I was cheating on him,” I shrugged.

  
  


“Why would he think that?”

  
  


“I have no idea,” I gulped, stubbing the butt of my cigarette out. I promptly lit another one and wondered why the hell I couldn’t see properly.

  
  


It’s only when Mike handed me a tissue that I realised I was crying again.

  
  


“I just want to sleep,” I whispered, “Is that too much to ask for?”

  
  


“I’m afraid it is when you might have a concussion.”

  
  


“I haven’t.”

  
  


“You don’t know that. You can sleep later when you’ve been looked over by a doctor.”

  
  


“I really--”

  
  


“That’s your third cigarette in five minutes.”

  
  


I stared back at Mike before taking a drag of it and turning to the side to blow out a long cloud of grey smoke.

  
  


“And?”

  
  


“Jesus Chester, don’t be like this with me.”

  
  


“Sorry,” I mumbled, “I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

  
  


Mike shook his head and leant forward, resting his head in his hands. I sighed and reluctantly stubbed out my cigarette against the window sill, carelessly flicking the butt out of the open window. If this is what it felt to be completely void of any emotion then I sure as hell wasn’t enjoying it. I leant my head in my arms and began to cry, not really sure what I else I could do. My body wanted to shut down yet my mind just couldn’t stop racing.

  
  


“Hey,” Mike soothed, pulling me into a tight embrace, “It’s okay,” he whispered, holding me against him.

  
  


“No it’s not,” I sniffed, “Mike he died thinking I hated him. He died thinking I didn’t want him anymore and it wasn’t like that, it was never like that.”

  
  


Mike pulled away, “What happened then?”

  
  


“You don’t know?” I asked, cursing myself as soon as the words had left my mouth.

  
  


“No you fucking idiot,” Mike spat, “I don’t know. You think I would have kept that from you?” he asked, his voice unnervingly calm, clearly not reflecting the hurt I’d just laid upon him.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “Shit Mike this is all so fucked up,” I shivered, “I don’t even know if I can talk about it. It’s just,” I paused, “I just need some time to think and--”

  
  


The sound of the door opening cut away my words. It was Rocky and a wide eyed Rob who hesitantly followed the former over to us. Part of me wanted to ask who had died because the look in their eyes was of sheer shock. I stopped myself though, realising that it was me who had almost died and probably not the one who should be cracking jokes after all the chaos I’d managed to cause.

  
  


“Chester,” Rocky started, taking a deep breath as if to accentuate how hard this was for him, or maybe it was an unintentional pause as neither he or Rob could seem to tear their eyes away from my bloodstained arms. I felt my cheeks reddening and looked away. Mike seemed to sense my discomfort and subtly passed me my sweater from where it had been lying carelessly on the floor. I thought of the state that it had laid in on the floor of the van not that many hours ago and absently wondered if I could erase the day and start over again.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


“Sorry,” I muttered, pulling my jumper over my head and slowly looking up at Rocky.

  
  


“There’s a hospital not too far which is on route so if we leave now we can get you checked out. How are you feeing?”

  
  


I shrugged and slowly got to my feet, searching and failing to find the strength inside me to even acknowledge what Rocky had said. Instead I walked off and into the small bathroom, pushing the door shut behind me.

  
  


“Give him time,” Mike was telling Rocky as I slid the lock across and sunk to the cold tiled floor.

  
  


Time.

  
  


I smirked to myself. Time to what? Adjust to the fact that Josh was never coming back and that the reason for that was all because of me? I shook my head. I knew of some shit things people had done in their lives but this just about topped them all. I was the reason that another man was dead. I was still here and Josh wasn’t. Nothing about that seemed fair whatsoever.

  
  


“Chester? You okay?”

  
  


I closed my eyes. I could feel the chicken sandwich I’d eaten at around 3am fast rising from my stomach.

  
  


“Chester don’t make me knock down the fucking door. Rob and Rocky have gone, okay?”

  
  


I quickly shifted from the door, knocking the lock back before my sandwich reappeared as I crashed to the floor and threw up into the bathtub. I was vaguely aware of Mike kneeling down behind me, pressing the palm of his hand against my back but it was a good ten minutes later until I was able to turn around and look at him.

  
  


“I’m never eating chicken again,” I croaked, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

  
  
  
  


+

  
  
  
  


I’d been longing for this day off for so long, sometimes counting down the hours till the moment I’d be able to just relax and bum around and just maybe slip into my bunk and fall asleep. Sleep had been hard to come by when some nights we didn’t even finish loading the van until four am and other nights Joe kept me awake talking on his cell phone or Rob and Brad were having a domestic over who was the best Doctor Who.

  
  


Ironic then, that now sleeping was the last thing I was able to do. The buzz of the engine beneath me that I’d gradually grown accustomed to was grating on me, accentuated by the warm, close air that filled the van. I’d kicked the sheets off and stripped down to my boxers but still felt too hot and sticky, wanting nothing more than a cold shower to cool me down. It didn’t help that Mike was lying beside me in his pyjamas  _and_  a hoody, proclaiming that it was cold. Cold my ass.

  
  


“I’ll ask Rocky if he can pull over,” Mike suddenly spoke, swinging his legs over the side of the bunk.

  
  


“What?” I asked, gazing at him through half closed eyes.

  
  


“So you can get some fresh air. Any more tossing and turning and you’re gonna pull a hamstring.”

  
  


“I’ll be fine.”

  
  


“I also need to stretch my legs and smoke this joint,” Mike told me, patting down his pockets, “Bring your lighter will you?”

  
  


“Mike I thought you were off the pot--” I stopped because Mike had already disappeared and the van was slowing down.

  
  


I rubbed my bruised, but  _not_  concussed head and slowly sat up. The nurse who saw me at the hospital had told me I was lucky to be alive before giving me the once over and sending me to the X-ray department with a couple of leaflets, one of which was a copy of the green cross code. I’d shoved the other one into my pocket, only to read later on that it was entitled ‘how to cope with self harm’. That too had been thrown away.

  
  


I felt the van stopping and steadied myself against the side of my bunk as I got to my feet and walked through the kitchenette, already able to taste the wave of fresh air that was wafting in through the open door. I grabbed a pink Zippo from the draining board. Rocky was ambling down the steps with a cigarette in his hand and as I joined him and my bare feet touched the crumbling asphalt of the parking lot we’d pulled up in I silently thanked him with a nod of the head.

  
  


“You’ve got half an hour,” he told me, “I’m just going to stretch my legs and grab something to eat from that diner.”

  
  


I shivered as the cool morning air hit my chest and scanned the dawn skies that were folding out before my eyes. Apart from the diner and the small parking lot there was nothing but stretches of green fields for miles and miles. I started to walk away from the van, my bare feet brushing against the warm surface of the uneven concrete beneath them. I could just see Mike as I got to the back of the van. He was standing at the edge of the road, watching the sky and I stopped beside him, gazing up at the cloudless sky.

  
  


“I wish I could make things better,” Mike sighed, turning to face me.

  
  


“I know what that’s code for,” I smiled softly, “Great minds and all that? It means you want me to talk and open up and…”

  
  


“Okay smart ass then you don’t need me to ask you what happened. Just talk to me.”

  
  


“Okay,” I nodded, running my hands up and down my arms, “The week before Josh died,” I paused, wincing at the words that usually got lodged in the back of my throat, “I was,” I stopped and looked at Mike, “I was raped.”

  
  


“You were raped?”

  
  


“This guy I was meant to be tutoring,” I cut in, “Because my English teacher thought I was the right person to do it. He, he did it. We were in my apartment and he…” I closed my eyes because I could feel myself turning faint.

  
  


“Hey,” Mike whispered, snaking his arm around my shoulder, “Let’s sit down.”

  
  


I nodded and opened my eyes before Mike led me to a dusty slope at the side of the road. We both sat down and without pausing to dwell on everything that was buzzing around my mind I carried on speaking.

  
  


“It happened so fast. One minute I was trying to explain the meaning of a metaphor the next minute he was trying to kiss me. I told him to stop but it’s like my words were nothing to his ears, I sometimes wonder if he even heard me. He wasn’t violent or brutal. He just did it. He didn’t speak, he just used his strength and pinned me down and I couldn’t stop him, I couldn’t,” I stopped abruptly and squeezed my eyes shut, foolishly hoping this would erase the memories that were flashing right before my eyes; the memories that I’d kept hidden away for so fucking long.

  
  


When I opened my eyes Mike squeezed my hand and I somehow found my voice again.

  
  


“I couldn’t tell Josh. Not because I thought he’d hate me or that he wouldn’t care. Not even because I felt so fucking dirty and disgusting. I just couldn’t admit it had happened. All I had to do was say it because he died thinking I’d betrayed him and it wasn’t like that Mike, it wasn’t…”

  
  


“Hey,” Mike hushed.

  
  


“He saw us. He saw us together and thought that I was betraying him. He confided in his Mom about this and then a week later I found him in the bathroom all cold and pale. He died in my fucking arms,” I whispered, “All because I didn’t want to face up to what had happened. And I find this out years after it happens because the guy who I thought I was falling in love with kept it a secret from me. He thought it didn’t matter. He fucking lied to me and now I’m paranoid that everyone knew. I even wondered if you knew,” I paused, “I’m sorry.”

  
  


“I wouldn’t keep that from you.”

  
  


“I know Mike, I know. But who else knows?”

  
  


Mike shook his head, “That’s something you shouldn’t dwell on.”

  
  


“Really? How can I not think about it? I mean, every time I think of Phi I think of how we fucked and how he knew and…”

  
  


“Don’t,” Mike hushed, “Don’t think like that.”

  
  


“Then how am I supposed to think?” I asked, “What am I supposed to think when I’m standing face to face with him? He knew how much that was hurting me. He knew that the biggest reason I’m in this band and singing my heart out night after night is because of Josh. How could he keep it from me?”

  
  


“I think he was trying to protect you.”

  
  


I raised my eyebrows, “From what?”

  
  


“From feeling the way you’re feeling right now.”

  
  


I looked away from Mike, “You’d do anything to protect me.”

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


“Then would you have kept that from me?” I asked, looking back at him.

  
  


“No,” Mike answered, shaking his head, “I know how much that’s been hurting you and I know it almost killed you. I would have told you Chester.”

  
  


“Then why didn’t he?”

  
  


“I don’t know. Only he knows that. You have to ask him, not me but I’m pretty certain he’ll tell you what I’ve just told you. He wanted to protect you and different people have different perceptions of things in life.”

  
  


“Meaning?” I asked.

  
  


“I think Phi was wrong. I hate him for it right now. But I don’t think he did it out of malice. I think he thought it was for the best.”

  
  


“Shit,” I uttered, sighing heavily.

  
  


It was starting to get light now and the streetlamps that had shone down on us had now petered out, replaced by a thread of gold that was creeping up into the sky. I shivered and realised that it was actually quite chilly outside and here I was in just my boxers.

  
  


“I always thought it’d feel better,” I sighed, “I mean once I knew why Josh had killed himself. I’ve longed for this moment for what seems like forever and now I feel even worse. I don’t even know how I feel to be honest.”

  
  


“You just need to let it sink in,” Mike told me, “I know it’s not easy but I think in time it will feel easier.”

  
  


“I hope so.”

  
  


“Can I ask you something?” Mike asked, staring me right in the eyes.

  
  


“Sure,” I nodded, “As long as I can share your hoody.”

  
  


Mike smiled a little and unzipped his Papa Roach hoody. Coby Dick seemed to have taken a shine to him, which I’d taken great delight in teasing him about after he’d come onto the van after a show wearing the hoody which Coby had given to him as a present. I smiled about that as Mike slipped his right arm out of it and shuffled closer to me. I pulled the jumper around me and shoved my arm into the sleeve, closing my eyes slightly as inhaled the ever present scent of weed and shampoo that was my best friend Mike.

  
  


“I don’t want to be insensitive but why didn’t you tell me you were raped?”

  
  


“Up until today I convinced myself it hadn’t happened,” I shrugged, “I guess that when Josh died that hurt me even more. It made the pain of being raped seem insignificant, or that’s what I told myself. I just wanted to forget it happened so I became more and more oblivious to the fact as the years went on. I didn’t tell you because I had convinced myself it never even happened.”

  
  


Mike nodded his head, “I understand that. I think I’m guilty of having done that a lot.”

  
  


“Any time you want to face up to things then I’m here.”

  
  


“Thanks Chaz,” Mike smiled.

  
  


A comfortable silence seemed to drift over us at that point. I naively thought that things would be okay. We’d get up and we’d walk back onto the van. We’d drive to the next venue and I’d wake up the next day feeling like a new person; like I’d been freed of the weight that had been upon my shoulders for so long.

  
  


It didn’t happen that way.

  
  


Of course it fucking didn’t.


	12. and I'm sick of this scene

“Get that fucking thing out of my face.”

  
  


“Oh calm down Joseph, you big baby.”

  
  


“Baby? Fuck off with it already.”

  
  


“I mean it.”

  
  


“Rob stop being an asshole. Joe stop being a pussy…”

  
  


“Excuse me!”

  
  


“Brad stop staring holes into Mike and Mike, stop staring holes into Brad. Where the hell  _is_  Chester?”

  
  


I pulled the covers tighter over my head. I didn’t care that I was supposed to be in the front of the bus with the others because Rocky, who was at yet another seedy diner collecting us breakfast, was about to give us yet another lecture. I didn’t care that I’d been shouted at by everyone bar Mike and Phoenix because I apparently wouldn’t move my ‘lily ass’. I just didn’t fucking care.

  
  
  


“Chester? Chester stop being a diva and get your ass out here!”

  
  


“Don’t shout at him Rob,” I heard Phoenix saying.

  
  


I wanted to laugh at that point. How could he of all people say that? I wanted to yell some sarcastic comment but I couldn’t even summon the energy to open my mouth. Tonight’s show was going to be a fucking blast, wasn’t it?

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I groaned and hid my head under my pillow as Mike poked his head into the confines of my bunk. He obviously wasn’t taking my hints that I wanted to be left alone as he sat down beside me.

  
  


“Chester come on,” he sighed, “You know I hate having to drag your ass out of bed. I will do it though so I hope to God you’ve got some clothes on under there.”

  
  


“I’m tired,” I mumbled.

  
  


“We all are, fuck, you should see Joe. He’s so grumpy this morning it’s not even funny. He makes the Grinch look nice.”

  
  


“I know. I heard him yelling. He woke me up. Inconsiderate asshole.”

  
  


“God you’re such a ray of light this morning aren’t you?”

  
  


“Is it any wonder?”

  
  


“Look, I don’t want to sit around in this fucking band meeting any more than you do but--”

  
  


“I’m going to be sick,” I gasped suddenly as I felt a sharp pain sparking inside my stomach.

  
  


“Yeah I was going to pretend to be bedridden to escape it too but I think it‘s probably a good idea if we do all talk about things…”

  
  


“No, really,” I moaned, flinging my bed sheets off me, “I’m really gonna be sick.”

  
  


I scrambled past Mike; through the kitchen, ignoring the puzzled gazes from the rest of my band mates as I raced out of the van, barely feeling the sharp gravel beneath my bare feet as I threw up in a nearby trash can. This, I thought to myself as I straightened up and wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, was not good. I’d not eaten a thing for over twenty-four hours and as I started to stumble back to the van I could feel my stomach growling in protest.

  
  


Mike was on the steps, a frown upon his face and he grabbed onto my wrist as I shuffled past him and stepped back onto the van. His hand felt clammy against my skin and I had to rub my eyes to try and even focus on him. I managed to focus enough to see that his hair was a complete mess and his glasses were sliding down on his nose.

  
  


“Are you okay?” he asked.

  
  


I could hear the others inside; Joe and Rob still bickering as Brad made some comment that I’m sure was being hurtled in my direction.

  
  


“I’m fine,” I nodded.

  
  


“You don’t look fine,” Mike sighed, “In fact you…”

  
  


“Look like shit?” I finished for him, “I know.”

  
  


“Did you get any sleep?”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Ah, good morning Mr. Bennington. I see you finally summoned yourself from bed.”

  
  


I glanced behind Mike as Rocky strolled over to us, his arms cradling coffee cartons and paper bags. I was not in the mood for his sarcasm. In fact, I was not in the mood for anyone. I wanted to go back to the safety of my bunk and its faded green bed sheets. I wanted to lay my head down on the lumpy pillow that I couldn’t seem to sleep without these days.

  
  


Sadly, that wasn’t an option because as I’d come to learn there was no such thing as escaping when you’re living with six other people in a van. So instead I turned away from Rocky and put my head down as I walked through the van, stopping by my bunk to search for some clothes. I could hear hushed tones as words were exchanged between Rocky and the others and gazing back I watched Mike slip into the empty seat next to Joe. He caught my eye and smiled softly but even that couldn’t cheer me up. I turned away and noisily rummaged through my bag, cursing and throwing things about until I found a pair of clean pants. Rocky was calling me by the time I’d pulled them on and grabbing a shirt that I had a slight feeling might actually be Mike’s and not mine, I stumbled back into the front of the van.

  
  


“Shit Chester,” Rob uttered, his mouth hanging open and his bagel-filled hand poised in the air, “Dude you look fucking awful.”

  
  


I stared back at everyone else who seemed to be wearing the same look of shock, except for Brad who just showed the usual disdain. Rocky’s eyes were glued to my arms and I slowly looked down at them, gulping as my eyes met with the deep scratch marks that littered my pale skin.

  
  


“Okay,” Mike spoke, “Do you guys want to stop staring now?”

  
  


“Eh, yeah Chester come and sit down. Grab something to eat,” Rocky told me, waving me over to the space beside Brad.

  
  


I sat down with a thud and stared at the bagel that had been pushed toward me. Not only was I not hungry, I was also sitting next to Brad. I wondered if the day was going to get any fucking shittier. Then, of course, it did.

  
  


“Wow,” Brad muttered, just loud enough for me to hear, “I didn’t realise you were into self harm.”

  
  


“Brad!” Rob gasped.

  
  


“It suits you,” Brad smirked as I slowly lifted my head to look at him.

  
  


“Fuck you,” I hissed, “At least I’m not doing it to someone else.”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“What’s that supposed to mean?” Rob asked with a frown as I picked up my bagel and looked up at Mike who had turned deathly pale.

  
  


“Forget it,” I whispered.

  
  


“Right. We need to talk,” Rocky interjected conveniently before I felt the need to swing my fist into Brad’s face, pummel him a few times then ram my fucking bagel down his throat.

  
  


Mike was staring back at me and I felt my heart pang. I gazed back, mouthing  _sorry_  but I could tell it wasn’t quite cutting the mustard. I looked away, casting my eyes across to the cupboard door that was slightly ajar. I wasn’t even listening to Rocky, just wondering how much more of this I could take.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I snapped my head back, eyes tearing themselves away from the empty chip packet that was peeking out of the cupboard door. Rocky looked exasperated and I couldn’t blame him. He sighed and took a sip of his coffee before placing the Styrofoam cup firmly back down onto the table.

  
  


“Okay we need to talk about a few things. I know the past few weeks have been intense and I know that this tour is a lot more serious than the times we’ve driven around looking for pubs and bars that are willing to let us play a gig. And I know that the past twenty-four hours in particular have been especially hard for some of us,” he paused and stared right at me, “But you guys are supposed to be friends. Right now you’re not acting like friends. I told you already that I don’t want to referee your arguments but sadly I care too much to turn a blind eye. As your manager I’m going to ask you to all sit here and talk to one another. You guys are a fucking class act on stage. You go together so well, I think you need to start doing that off stage as well.”

  
  


Everyone lapsed into silence as Rocky’s speech ended. I half thought about clapping but sat on my hands instead. Phoenix was staring at his watch. Rob was fiddling with his coffee cup. Joe just stared into space and Brad and Mike just stared at each other. I sighed and cleared my throat.

  
  


“I’m sorry about what happened yesterday.”

  
  


Rocky smiled, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Well that went well,” Brad grinned.

  
  


“Brad,” Rocky sighed.

  
  


“Look, he’s okay,” Phoenix spoke, “Aren’t you?”

  
  


“No I am not okay,” I whispered staring right into his eyes.

  
  


“Then… Maybe you should talk about it? I mean, if it helps?” Rob asked meekly.

  
  


“There’s nothing to say.”

  
  


“No offence Chester,” Joe cut in, “But yesterday you ran out in front of a truck and if it hadn’t had been for Rob you’d be dead. You look like death warmed up today, you were crying non-stop last night, your face is covered in bruises and we’re fucking worried about you. Okay?”

  
  


I looked down at my lap. I placed my hands there. I sat and stared at them and willed the tears that were pricking the corners of my eyes to fuck off. Thankfully they did and I finally plucked the courage to raise my head.

  
  


“I just had some bad news,” I croaked, “Nothing serious though. I flipped out and I’m sorry but there’s nothing to worry about. Honest.”

  
  


“It was my fault,” Phoenix sighed.

  
  


“Oh yes, I forgot to mention that,” I glared at him, “Phoenix is leaving the band.”

  
  


“He’s  _what_?”

  
  


Everyone except Mike, Phoenix and myself sat with their mouths open. Even Brad looked shocked. It made a nice change from disinterested, disgusted or not amused; the only other expressions available in his catalogue.

  
  
  


“That was the bad news,” I shrugged, “Phoenix who I thought was one of my closest friends is leaving the band because The Snax have been snapped up by a major label. And the best part is that I’m so fucking hurt that he couldn’t tell me about this that I can’t even find it in me to be happy for them.”

  
  


“Fuck,” Joe uttered, “Is this… Phi is this true?” he asked and finally everyone’s eyes shifted from my frame to his.

  
  


“Yeah,” he sighed, “Yes. It’s true.”

  
  


“And at what point were you going to tell us?”

  
  


It was his turn to lose the will to speak, to stare at his hands and want the ground to swallow him whole. I wondered if the ground could cope with absorbing his huge fucking pack of lies.

  
  


“It’s not a definite thing,” Phi finally spoke, raising his head to meet everyone’s somewhat questioning glances.

  
  


“That’s not what…”

  
  


“They’ve been signed. And they want me back. I’m still thinking it over.”

  
  


“Well, there’s a surprise,” Brad spoke scathingly, “Isn’t that what you’ve been doing for the past, how many years?”

  
  


“Look I’m sorry,” Phi uttered, “I really am.”

  
  


“Yeah, you look it,” Brad hissed.

  
  


“Look,” Rocky sighed, glancing at his watch, “We’re going to have to leave if we want to stand any chance of getting to tonight’s venue on time. We’ll talk about this later,” he looked at Phoenix before getting to his feet, “So please, no killing each other.”

  
  


“When were you going to tell us?” Brad asked as Rocky slipped into the front of the van and started up the engine.

  
  


Phoenix sighed and ran a hand over his head, “I don’t know,” he shrugged.

  
  


“Oh I think you do,” Brad pointed out, “You were just going to fuck off without a word, weren’t you? And then what? We just happen to see you and your goofball band on MT- _fucking_ -V?”

  
  


“Dude it’s not like that.”

  
  


“Then what is it like?”

  
  


“Yeah, come on man,” Rob spoke up, “We need to know where we stand.”

  
  


“Okay, okay. I’m probably leaving when we finish touring.”

  
  


I closed my eyes as the temperature around me seemed to suddenly drop. I couldn’t see their faces but I could sense the others were feeling just as shocked and sickened and utterly pissed off by this whole  _thing_.

  
  


“Well, that went down like a lead balloon,” Mike pointed out.

  
  


“Look, we all knew this was coming,” Rob spoke, “Let’s be rational here.”

  
  


Rational? I wanted to laugh but instead opened my eyes and shook my head in disbelief. Phoenix was still staring at his fucking hands, looking guiltier than Judas.

  
  


“Well,” Rob shrugged, “I’m sorry you’ve decided to leave us but,” he paused, sensing that no one else was really on the same page as him, well I certainly wasn’t.

  
  


“Sorry?” Brad echoed, “Are we?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Rob nodded.

  
  


“Speak for your fucking selves. We’re royally screwed because we have an album to record and no bass player to…” Brad’s voice drifted off because Rob’s eyes were on me.

  
  


Come to think of it, so were Joe’s. And Mike’s. And…

  
  


“No fucking way,” Brad and I spat in unison.

  
  


“Oh. My. God! Did you two just agree on something?!” Rob laughed.

  
  


“Fuck you,” I snapped, “If you think I’m playing bass then…”

  
  


“You can do it over my dead body,” Brad interrupted.

  
  


“Come on,” Rob’s expression softened, “He’s not that bad.”

  
  


“He has a name,” I snarled.

  
  


“And he’s fucking dire,” Brad chided.

  
  


“And I think we’re getting ahead of ourselves here,” Joe interjected.

  
  


“We are?” Rob frowned.

  
  


“Yeah. You really want to let Phoenix just leave us?” he asked, casually taking a sip from his coffee which was surely stone cold by now.

  
  


“Joe I’ve made up my mind.”

  
  


“And there’s nothing we can do to change it?”

  
  


“I don’t think there is…”

  
  


“Well at least think about it.”

  
  


“Joe that’s what he’s been doing since he joined us,” Brad groaned, “He’s making the wrong decision but at least he’s made one.”

  
  


“True,” Rob grinned.

  
  


“So there’s nothing we could do? I mean…”

  
  


“No,” Phi sighed, staring at me, “There’s nothing.”

  
  


I took that as my cue to leave because that’s when it suddenly hit me that the guy I’d in some twisted way started to fall in love with was about to up and leave and there was fuck all I could do to stop him.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


“Hi.”

  
  


“Hi.”

  
  


“You okay?”

  
  


“Not really.”

  
  


“Are you?”

  
  


Mike shook his head in reply and flopped down on the lumpy motel bed beside me. He folded his arms under his head and gazed at me through tired eyes. We’d not long come off stage and after packing away our gear, loading it onto the van and arguing throughout a thirty minute journey we’d stopped off at a dilapidated motel and piled into two rooms. Doors had been slammed, Rocky had disappeared to the bar and Joe had mentioned something about joining him and getting very, very drunk. Basically the show had been our worst ever.

  
  


“We fucking sucked,” Mike mused out loud.

  
  


“I know,” I nodded, wincing at the still present memories.

  
  


Most of the crowd had been too drunk or stoned to notice. On the plus side they probably hadn’t heard my scratchy voice and Brad’s out-of-tune guitar. They probably hadn’t noticed the way none of us could even look at each other or the way I’d simply dropped my mic to the stage before I’d even finished singing the last song and staggered backstage without looking back.

  
  


“Do you think he’s made his mind up for good?” Mike asked.

  
  


I rolled onto my back and stared up at the cobwebs that were clinging to the ceiling very much the way I was clinging to my sanity. The aged rotary fan buzzed above, clipping relentlessly against a piece of torn wallpaper. I watched it chug around and around, using the mesmerising vision as an excuse to delay my answer.

  
  


“Chaz?”

  
  


“I wish I knew,” I bit my lip and turned to look at Mike who’s kohl-blackened eyes glimmered in the dusky light, “I just… I mean one minute he wants something, the next he doesn’t, so who knows really.”

  
  


“What happened yesterday? Did you guys not sort things out?”

  
  


“I thought we did,” I sighed, “One minute he was fucking me. The next minute he’s telling me he’s leaving. I don’t know where that leaves me but I sure as hell don’t think it’s a good sign.”

  
  


“I can’t believe he did that,” Mike shook his head, “That’s out of order.”

  
  


“I know but I can’t help but think I probably deserved it.”

  
  


“Don’t say that,” Mike scowled.

  
  


“I ended things though. I ended things without even asking him what  _he wanted_. Maybe that was, what’s the saying? Me getting bit on the ass by divine retribution?”

  
  


“That’s no way to treat anyone. So what if you just assumed Phoenix wasn’t into you in the same way? That’s no excuse for him to screw you over. That’s so like Phoenix. He’s an asshole and he always has been.”

  
  


I raised my eyebrows, “I thought you guys were supposed to be good friends.”

  
  


“We are. I just think he’s an asshole. And I fucking warned him as well,” Mike sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hands.

  
  


“What do you mean?” I asked with a yawn.

  
  


“I told him not to fuck you about,” Mike told me with a small smile, “I said I’d kick his ass.”

  
  


“Well you can still do that if you so please.”

  
  


“He’d probably lay me out,” Mike laughed, “He always seems to come off better.”

  
  


“Tell me about it. I feel like I’ve made such a fool of myself. He had no intentions of… Fuck, I don’t want to be here,” I growled, “I just want to go home and sleep.”

  
  


“Me too. Not that I really have a home.”

  
  


“I think my bedroom floor counts.”

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I smiled.

  
  


“Want to fuck the no drugs rule and get out of it?” Mike asked.

  
  


“I thought you’d never ask.”

  
  


“Come on,” Mike grinned as he sat up, “I know where we can score something.”

  
  


I smiled and slowly sat up, brushing a hand through my uncombed hair. Mike threw me my jacket as I swung my legs over the side of the creaking double bed and I caught it as I got to my feet. I shoved it on and watched Mike with a bemused smile as he leant down and glanced at his reflection in the cracked mirror that stood next to the window.

  
  


“Are we going to see Coby by any chance?” I smirked as he wiped away the black smudges from his eyes.

  
  


“Maybe,” he smiled back at me in the mirror, “I heard he was staying in the same shithole.”

  
  


We walked out of the room, pulling the plywood thin door shut behind us. The carpet in the main corridor was threadbare and as we walked along in the direction of Coby’s room I could feel my feet sticking to the dirt-ridden surface beneath me. I didn’t dare look down, let’s put it that way. We carried on through a double door, the carpet turning to lino tiles which were cracked and fading at the edges. The lights flickered above us and as we pushed through the next set of double doors we were greeted with the familiar scent of weed. That along with the soft hum of music told us that room six-seven-nine had to be Coby’s.

  
  


The door was slightly open and we could see Papa Roach’s sound technician being straddled to the floor by a rather voluptuous lady but we knocked nonetheless. A few seconds later Coby appeared wearing nothing but a white towel which was wrapped around his waist. One tiny tug and it would be revealing everything. I realised I was more than likely gaping and quickly clamped my mouth shut as he opened the door wider.

  
  


“Hey,” he smiled, “Come on in,” he nodded, moving aside.

  
  


We stepped inside the warm room, smoke filling our eyes as Coby shut the door behind us. I could just about recognise Tobin and someone else making out on a couch in the corner of the room. There were a few other people I recognised lying on the floor smoking joints and drinking beer.

  
  


“So,” Coby’s voice interrupted my daze, “You changed your mind?” he asked Mike.

  
  


“I guess,” Mike nodded.

  
  


“I’ve been offering him hits all throughout this tour,” Coby explained, obviously scenting my confusion, “It wasn’t until the other day that he told me you two were trying to stay clean…”

  
  


“We tried,” Mike smiled.

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, momentarily distracted by the pair of teenage boys who were having sex in the middle of the king-sized bed, “Yeah we tried but what’s the point really?” I asked no one in particular as I tore my gaze away from the writhing bodies to look at Coby, “You only get one life, and all that shit.”

  
  


Coby smiled, “Follow me.”

  
  


We passed a few more people who were reclining on another couch, passively debating something as they passed around a joint. I wasn’t at all surprised to see that one of them was Rob. He winked at me as Mike and I disappeared into the bathroom Coby had led us into.

  
  


“Because I like you two so much,” he paused, clicking the door into place, “First lines are on me.”

  
  


“What’s the catch?” I asked cautiously as Coby dug a packet of white powder from the pocket of a pair of jeans which were hanging on the back of the door.

  
  


“There is no catch,” he smiled and padded over to the sink where he picked up the small mirror that was leaning against the tiled wall.

  
  


I slid off my jacket and sat down against the cold tiled floor as I watched Coby making out two thick lines of cocaine on the flat surface of the mirror. I could almost taste the powder as he passed me the mirror and thought how this couldn’t come quick enough. I took the rolled up dollar bill that he’d also fished from his pocket and within seconds I was leaning back against the side of the bathtub and shakily passing the mirror onto Mike. I sniffed and closed my eyes as the chemical euphoria spun its way to my brain.

  
  


“This feels good,” I murmured, watching Mike through half closed eyes as he snorted the white line that Coby had so diligently drawn out for him.

  
  


“Fuck  _good_ ,” Mike smiled hazily, “This feels great.”

  
  


“And there’s plenty more where that came from,” Coby chuckled, “Remember what I said to you Mike?”

  
  


“Yes… I remember,” Mike nodded.

  
  


“Good, I’m going to get us some beer.”

  
  


Stepping past me, Coby opened the door and for a moment the thumping music seemed louder than it had been before as it drifted into the small room. I peered after Coby and saw that someone was tweaking the volume on a battered looking boom box that was resting on a chair in the middle of the room.

  
  


“What’s he after?” I asked Mike.

  
  


“Hmm? Oh,” A smile graced Mike’s lips, “He’s not after anything…”

  
  


“Yes he is. He’s blatantly trying to get into your ass…”

  
  


Mike burst out laughing, his limbs falling limp as his upper body fell to the floor. I couldn’t help but laugh as he lay there shaking and giggling.

  
  


“No,” he smiled, his laughter dying down, “He wants me to look after some of his gear whilst we’re on this tour. His guitar tech is involved in this huge drugs trafficking project.”

  
  


“And… what’s in it for you?” I asked, fumbling in my pocket for a cigarette.

  
  


“What do  _you_  think?” Mike grinned.

  
  


“A bit of nookie and some free coke here and there?”

  
  


Mike nodded, “And given that I’m broke,” he shrugged, “Honestly Chester? These past few weeks have almost killed me.”

  
  


“I thought you were doing okay?”

  
  


“I was but, God, it’s like I’ve really needed this,” he gestured, “Just every once in a while I need to completely escape. I’ve really struggled.”

  
  


“I’m sorry I didn’t notice,” I sighed, glancing at Mike who was fiddling with the rolled up note, “Fuck. Why are you so good at hiding things?”

  
  


Mike dropped the note, “It just makes it easier sometimes.”

  
  


“Not in the long run. We’re not supposed to keep secrets from each other anymore, remember?”

  
  


“I know. It wasn’t that, I just… I wanted to try it, see what it was like without the little pick me ups?”

  
  


“And?”

  
  


“Well it’s no better, that’s for certain so what’s the point?”

  
  


“I’ll drink to that,” I nodded absently.

  
  


“Guess I’m back right on time then?” Coby asked, appearing at the doorway with a crate of beer.

  
  


“Thanks,” I nodded as he passed me one of the cold bottles.

  
  


“So Mike, are you in?”

  
  


I took a swig from my beer as Coby pushed the door shut and passed Mike a beer. He sat down beside him and put the crate on the floor.

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike nodded, “I’m in.”

  
  


Coby smiled, “That’s great man. What about you Chester?”

  
  


“I don't know man,” I shrugged, “I mean, what is it exactly that we have to do?”

  
  


“Nothing,” Coby replied, “You don’t really have to do anything. I have my contacts dotted up and down the country, we pick up and drop off gear - all I need you to do is keep some of it hidden in your van.”

  
  


I raised my eyebrows.

  
  


“Okay Mr. Sceptical,” Coby smiled, “We’re getting more gear. Which means we need to spread it out a bit, make it look less conspicuous. Say if the van gets searched by the cops? They find a little amount of coke they’re gonna let us off and assume it’s for personal use - they’re not gonna arrest because they’re not going to waste time or money trying to figure out who exactly it belongs to, right?”

  
  


“Okay,” I nodded.

  
  


“But if they find, say, several sealed packets of white powder it’s going to be more than obvious that we’re dealing.”

  
  


“So you’re not just the pretty-faced singer of a rock band?” I chuckled, “You’re trafficking drugs up and down the country.”

  
  


“Exactly,” Coby grinned, “And all I want you to do to is keep hold of some of the gear for us - nothing else - and in return I’ll draw you a free line here and there.”

  
  


“Okay,” I nodded, running the facts through my mind, “I’m in.”

  
  


“Guess we should celebrate then,” Coby placed his beer down and got to his feet.

  
  


I downed my beer and glanced at Mike who was smirking in my direction as Coby stood with his back to us, rummaging around inside a black vanity bag that was sitting beside the sink. Mike winked at me and I couldn’t help but smile. I’m not sure if it was the sweet combination of cocaine and beer or the sight of the white towel that was wrapped ridiculously low around Coby’s waist but I felt good.

  
  


“Here we go boys,” Coby sounded pleased with himself as he turned around waving a syringe before us.

  
  


“Not for me,” I shook my head, leaning forward to grab another beer.

  
  


“You sure? This shit is fucking good man.”

  
  


“I’m sure.”

  
  


Coby shrugged and slid down next to Mike, crossing his legs as he hit the floor.

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


A devilish smile spread across Mike’s face and I took a gulp from my beer as I watched Coby sliding off Mike’s jacket. It dropped to the floor and I chugged down the rest of my drink, reaching out to get another one as Coby slid his hand across the inside of Mike’s left arm. He flexed it back and forth a few times before he leaned into Mike and whispered something into Mike’s ear; something I didn’t catch but it made Mike bite his lip. I could feel the coke I’d snorted starting to really prickle my insides as Coby slid the needle into Mike’s arm and pushed the syringe down. Mike gasped and closed his eyes and seconds later the needle was being pushed into Coby’s arm. I necked down my beer and reached for another one, my eyes half closed as someone slid their arms around me.

  
  


“Hello.”

  
  


It was Rob and I shuffled along the floor, allowing him to slide down beside me. I was aware that his fingers were digging into my hips as more of the ice cold alcohol slid down my throat.

  
  


“No, I’m not jacked up enough to let you fuck me,” I murmured, watching through hazy eyes as Coby opened his own brown orbs and placed the syringe he was clutching onto the floor.

  
  


It rolled aimlessly towards the bathtub and Coby slid his arms around Mike, pushed his lips to his and began kissing him. I could feel Rob’s breath on my neck; his fingers digging deeper into my hips as Mike began to kiss Coby back.

  
  


“It’s still a ‘no’,” I smiled as Rob’s lips grazed against my neck.

  
  


“You’re such a cock tease,” Rob whined.

  
  


“ _You’re_  such a horny fucker all the time. Go and hit on someone else,” I smiled, glancing sideways at him, “How much have you done?” I asked, gazing into his bloodshot eyes.

  
  


“Enough?”

  
  


“Look at us,” I murmured, “We’re so fucked,” I laughed out loud, “So let’s get something stronger to drink.”

  
  


We stumbled to our feet and casting a glance back at Mike, I slipped through the bathroom door, following Rob to the far corner of the room where someone had set a collection of bottles out on an old coffee table. Rob passed me a bottle of vodka and I took it from him, grabbed his arm and dragged him over to the bed.

  
  


“This looks promising,” he snickered.

  
  


“Behave,” I laughed, unscrewing the top from the bottle as I sat down cross legged in the centre of the bed.

  
  


Someone turned up the stereo and the thunderous sounds of Papa Roach filled the room, groans emitting from Tobin as he yelled for it to be turned off. I gulped down some vodka and passed the bottle to Rob, hissing as the liquid stung the back of my throat. I looked around the room, the purple interior swirling before me as my eyes grazed over swaying bodies dancing to the music, people passed out on the floor and finally to the bathroom door which was slightly ajar; Mike and Coby’s bodies writhing on the dirty floor.

  
  


“This is the best time I’ve had all tour,” Rob murmured, suddenly frowning as I looked at him, “So does that make this one  _shit_  tour?”

  
  


I smiled at him and took the bottle from his lips, “It depends,” I paused as I downed more of the vodka, “If Phoenix upping and leaving constitutes as shit, then yes it is a shit tour.”

  
  


“Are you happy?” Rob suddenly asked.

  
  


“Huh?”

  
  


“I mean, right now? Are you happy right now?”

  
  


“Well,” I paused, “I’m so wrecked that if you were to punch me in the face I wouldn’t feel a thing.”

  
  


“What?!”

  
  


“Try it,” I nodded, “Punch me.”

  
  


“You’re wasted. Gimme that bottle…”

  
  


“No,” I slurred, “I’m not happy. But who says you’ve got to be happy?”

  
  


“Chester you’re not making sense.”

  
  


“I never do.”

  
  


“Do you think he’ll change his mind?”

  
  


“Neither are you.”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“ _You’re_  not making sense either. You keep - you keep talking about one thing and then another, you’re going too fast.”

  
  


“Phoenix. Do you think he’ll stay?”

  
  


“I don’t care anymore,” I heard myself saying, “This bottle’s empty.”

  
  


“I’ll get some more.”

  
  


My head felt heavy so I lay down on my side, curling my legs up as Rob disappeared from my view. The music had changed and the room was filled with the eerie start to a Deftone’s track that I couldn’t remember the name of. I watched the room around me start to spin, turning into a purple hue right before my eyes. I half-wondered what Josh was thinking right now because I knew he’d be watching. Probably disappointed. Probably looking down in disdain. Possibly thinking this was what I deserved.

  
  


The bed beside me dipped and I blearily looked up at Rob who was uncapping a bottle of Jack Daniels. I hated the stuff but sat up enough to be able to take the bottle and down it as if it were Pepsi.

  
  


“Chester… Don’t do that,” Rob laughed, snatching the bottle away.

  
  
  


“Fuck,” I gasped, my mouth; my insides burning as the sickly liquid trickled down my throat.

  
  


I had to physically hold onto the edge of my bed, my head suddenly caving in on me as the room began to spin faster and faster. The coke was starting to wear off and all I was left with was a dazed mind and pounding head.

  
  


“Rob?”

  
  


“Mmm?”

  
  


“Rob I have to get out of here.”

  
  


“Okay,” Rob paused, “Do you want me to come with you?”

  
  


“No,” I shook my head, trying to focus on the floor, “No I’ll be fine… Will you make sure Mike’s okay?”

  
  


“Sure,” Rob nodded as I shakily got to my feet.

  
  


“Is the ground moving?” I asked with a frown.

  
  


Rob lay down on the bed, clutching the bottle to his chest, “Only when you are,” he whispered, “Only when you are…”

  
  


I staggered out of the room, stumbling into  _and_  over a few people on my way out. My lungs seemed to scream in delight as I breathed in the more neutral air that was flowing down the corridor and shutting the door behind me I asked myself which way my room was. Left or right? Steadying myself against the wall I went with instinct, albeit slightly intoxicated, and staggered to my left, pushing through familiar doors; stumbling down familiar corridors.

  
  


Just as I was trying to remember the number of my room I heard a laugh. I knew that laugh. Looking up I saw Phoenix and I felt relief washing over me - at least he would have some idea where our room was. I pushed through another set of doors, my mouth opening as I started to call his name but as quickly as I’d opened it, I clamped it shut because there I was, drunk, high and shaking; standing in the middle of a darkened corridor watching Phi fuck some young, blonde girl against a wall.

  
  


If I hadn’t felt like killing myself before, I certainly did now.

  
  


“Shit, shit, shit,” I let the door shut and sunk against the wall, feeling yet more tears grace their presence as they slid down my cheeks.

  
  


“Hey? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

  
  


_Shit._

  
  


Joe was strolling toward me, his cell phone in one hand and a KFC bucket in the other. I felt my stomach churning as the scent of fried chicken entered my senses.

  
  


“Hey,” Joe repeated, stopping beside me as he rested a hand on my shoulder, “Chester what’s wrong?”

  
  


“I…I forgot my room… I don’t know where I’m going… I…”

  
  


“Alright, alright,” Joe smiled, “It’s this one here,” he chuckled, tapping the door I was practically leaning against, “Good job I have the key with me, isn’t it?”

  
  


“I thought you were going to get smashed,” I randomly heard myself blurting out, “I wish I’d gone for a KFC instead but I can’t eat chicken,” I hiccupped, “I’m only a bit drunk.”

  
  


Joe smiled, “Don’t ever repeat this to anyone but you’re sweet when you’re drunk. I went for a walk instead. And got food. Sorry,” he uttered as I flinched when the bucket was waved in front of my face.

  
  


I moved aside as Joe unlocked the door and followed him inside the dingy room. It felt colder than before but the air was still stale and warm so I flicked the fan on and stumbled further inside.

  
  


“I need to take a shower,” I mumbled, carrying on toward the small bathroom.

  
  


“No problem,” Joe nodded, sitting down and flicking the small TV on, its black and white picture illuminating the room.

  
  


I stepped inside the bathroom, flicked on the light and locked the door behind me. For a moment I stood and stared at my grainy reflection in the dirty mirror above the sink. I hated what I saw. Bloodshot eyes and dishevelled hair. Pale and wasted; everything I was warned not to become. Another jaded singer. I felt my anger bubbling up from inside and before I could even think about stopping it I was slamming my fists into the mirror before me.

  
  


I don’t know what rational part of my mind let me take one of the larger shards of glass that had shattered and crashed down to the floor. I don’t think there was anything rational about it though. All I could see was Josh’s disappointed face. All I could hear was Phi’s laugh and the moans of the girl he was fucking. All I could taste was desperation and fear.

  
  


And then when all of that has faded all I could focus on was my blood as it trickled into the stained porcelain sink beneath me.


	13. I need a break from routine

“Good Morning.”

  
  


Had anyone else said this to me, with the exception of Brad, then I might have been able to summon a small smile, perhaps raise my head and even, with a bit of luck, respond with a cheery ‘Hello’ or a murmur of ‘Hey’.

  
  


However as far as I was concerned, Phoenix who was currently standing in front of me, did not merit such acknowledgement. That’s why I continued to stare at the slightly torn copy of the morning’s local paper, my eyes fixated to the review that had been printed about last nights gig.

  
  


_Papa Roach were full of energy, the ho-hum nicknamed singer Coby Dick delighting the crowd with his powerful voice, a performance which put the opening act’s lacklustre performance much to shame. Chesney, lead singer of Hybrid Theory failed to hit the notes that even a patient recovering from having their tonsils removed could have managed. The band were shoddy, mismatched and gave the impression they’d rather be at home getting stoned and watching Ricky Lake than rocking shows. There was however one small glimmer of hope (beside Chesney’s glittering eye make up) and that came in the form of Mike Shinoda, Japanese and timid looking but a menace on the guitar - when he could be bothered to put in more than minimal effort. But back to Papa Roach…_

  
  


I folded the article up and placed the paper on the floor, still very much aware that Phoenix was standing above me with his arms folded. I rubbed my eyes from behind my glasses and opened the next paper that Joe had handed me earlier on in the morning when I’d appeared from the bathroom in clean clothes and flopped down on the bed.

  
  


“Could you just stop reading for one minute?”

  
  


“Nope.”

  
  


“Chester you’re acting like a child.”

  
  


“Define ‘child’,” I retorted, my eyes halfheartedly glancing over an article about the possibility of sending cats into space, dropping them from a shuttle and trying to find out whether or not they landed on their feet after falling from such a height.

  
  


“Will you just look at me?”

  
  


I sighed heavily and folded the paper up, dropping it to the floor before I looked up, my eyes glaring right into Phi’s.

  
  


“I’m sorry, okay?” He sighed as if it was such a big deal for him to have to actually apologise in the first place for what he’d done to me. Perish the thought.

  
  


“Actually it isn’t okay,” I snapped.

  
  


“Well in that case can we talk about it?”

  
  


I shrugged. I didn’t want to talk. I didn’t want to do anything.

  
  


Phoenix sighed again before he hesitantly sat down beside me. I instinctively drew my arms around my body, flinching when he rested a hand on my shoulder.

  
  


“I’m sorry how things have turned out. I still… I still feel a lot for you.”

  
  


“Is that why you fucked that girl?”

  
  


Phoenix paled and slowly withdrew his hand.

  
  


“She barely looked fifteen,” I continued.

  
  


“Can we at least stay friends?”

  
  


I shrugged my shoulders again. Like I mentioned, I really wasn’t in the mood to talk. Trying to make that obvious to a guy I was fast realising thought the world revolved around him was a hard thing to do.

  
  


“Does that mean no?” He asked casually.

  
  


“I don’t know Phi. Do you realise how much you’ve hurt me? You can’t even begin to imagine,” I drifted off, biting my nails as my words hung in the air.

  
  


“What?” Phoenix frowned as I stared back at him.

  
  


“I think we should maybe stay away from one another,” I whispered, turning away from him.

  
  


I folded my arms under my head, clutching the sheets as Phi rested his hand against the small of my back.

  
  


“And that means not touching me,” My shaky voice told him.

  
  


“I don’t want that. And I don’t think you do either.”

  
  


“It’s for the best.”

  
  


“Chester stop being so overdramatic. I know I’ve hurt you and I am so, so sorry. Just,” he paused, “Just tell me what I can do to make things better.”

  
  


“Leave me alone.”

  
  


“I don’t want to do that,” Phi sighed, “Will you just look at me?”

  
  


I shook my head.

  
  


“Chester!”

  
  


I hissed as Phi grabbed my arm, yanking me so that I was forced to face him. His fingernails dug into my wrists and I winced in pain as he twisted my arm around, bending it forcefully behind my back.

  
  


“Please… Phi don’t do this…”

  
  


“Just talk to me then!”

  
  


“Let go of my arm then I might consider it,” I hissed.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” his voice softened, as he knelt down in front of me on the floor, “Just let me know what’s going on in your head. Chester I want to stay but I need to know if that’s what you want too.”

  
  


“I want you to be happy, that’s all.”

  
  


“That doesn’t answer anything…”

  
  


“I want you to let go of me as well.”

  
  


Phi flashed a small smile; a sad one at that and his hands let go of my arm. I winced again and sat up, rubbing both arms through the thick jumper I was wearing.

  
  


“Shit, I didn’t mean to hurt you. Are you okay? I‘m sorry, I forgot you’d hurt yourself yesterday. God if Rob hadn‘t been there…”

  
  


“I’m fine,” I snapped, though it was obvious I wasn’t. I felt my heart race when Phi paled as he glanced down at his fingers and I followed his gaze, gulping as I saw his fingertips were covered in blood.

  
  


_Fuck._

  
  


“You’re lying. Let me see your arm,” he gushed out, “Shit, I didn’t mean to hurt you,” he paused, his hands grabbing mine once again, “Chester?”

  
  


“I’m fine,” I whispered, pulling away from his grasp.

  
  


“Let me see,” he frowned.

  
  


“Honestly, it’s okay…”

  
  


Phi’s hand brushed against my sleeve and I could tell by the look on his face; he knew what I’d done.

  
  


“Chester…”

  
  


“I’m fine!”

  
  


“I just want to check. You know those cuts on your arms from yesterday… Are they okay? I didn’t make them worse, did I?”

  
  


I shook my head.

  
  


“Can I look?”

  
  


I shook my head again.

  
  


“Chester please,” he begged, grabbing my arm tighter.

  
  


“Phi I’m fine,” I hissed, yanking my arm from his clutches.

  
  


“So that’s why your arm’s bandaged…”

  
  


“…”

  
  


Phi squeezed my hands, “Does Mike know?”

  
  


“Know what?”

  
  


“Don’t play games Chester. I’m not stupid. Does he know?”

  
  


“No,” I whispered.

  
  


Phi sighed and got to his feet, “I’m sorry. I just can’t deal with you when you’re like this.”

  
  


Phi’s words hung in the air and I was left staring at the empty spot where his feet had been - only now he was long gone, the door slammed shut behind him and honestly, I didn’t blame him. I would quite happily flee from me if I had the chance. I lay my head back down and stared ahead at the blank TV screen in the corner of the room. Joe’s KFC bucket rested beside it along with his cell phone and an orange lighter which was sticking out the top of a battered cigarette carton. I frowned because I didn’t even realise Joe had started smoking again. Probably because I’d had my head shoved so far up my own ass to notice anyone else’s problems.

  
  


I inwardly kicked myself. What was it that Phi had said about me being overdramatic?

  
  


It wasn’t long before the door opened again and I wasn’t surprised to see a pale looking Mike walking inside the room, awkwardly shoving his hands into the pockets of his pants. The same ones he had on last night. He watched me for a few seconds but it felt painfully longer before he finally pushed the door shut behind him. He walked over to me and paused before slowly sitting down next to me, his hand resting on my back. His hair was wet and he no longer smelt of weed but of musky bath oils and shampoo.

  
  


“Please… Please tell me Phi’s got it wrong.”

  
  


I bit my lip as his worried eyes gazed at me from behind his thick, black-framed glasses. I wanted to lie my way out of this but what was the point? I couldn’t lie to Mike. Not about this.

  
  


So I shook my head.

  
  


“Come here,” Mike breathed out and I sat up, allowing him to wrap his arms around me.

  
  


“Why hey?” He asked as I closed my eyes and buried my head against his chest.

  
  


I couldn’t speak; a strangled sob replaced my words and I began to cry, tears relentlessly falling down my cheeks. To put it simply I was a fucking wreck.

  
  


“I was wasted. I wanted to justify the way I was feeling. I thought if I hurt myself then at least I’d have an excuse for feeling so much pain. I just.. I wanted to hurt myself because I was so fucking angry.”

  
  


Mike pulled away and slid his arm around me, “Angry at what?”

  
  


“Myself. I just, it’s everything that’s happened the past few days. I couldn’t cope.”

  
  


“And me suggesting we got wasted was hardly the best idea…”

  
  


“Hey,” I smiled softly, “It’s not like you held a gun to my head. I didn’t need any persuading.”

  
  


Mike nodded.

  
  


“How was your night anyway? I’m sorry I upped and left.”

  
  


“I don’t really remember much,” Mike blushed, “So I’ll assume it was good. I don’t even have a hangover yet so I’m waiting for that to kick in.”

  
  


“I bet it shows up just as we go on stage tonight.”

  
  


“Of course. I’ll probably remember what happened then as well.”

  
  


“Well, you were getting pretty intimate with Coby…”

  
  


“Shit…” Mike closed his eyes, “I didn’t… y’know…”

  
  


“What?” I smirked.

  
  


“Fuck! I did, didn’t I?”

  
  


“Well, let’s just say his hands were down your pants when I left you.”

  
  


“Oh Jesus,” Mike shook his head, “I… Okay…” he paused, “Anyway, you’ve completely changed the subject,” he told me sternly, his smile fading so fast like it had never been there in the first place.

  
  


“Shit,” I sighed, “Thought you weren’t gonna pick up on that.”

  
  


“I did. You don’t do subtle subject changes, remember?”

  
  


“I just felt we’d covered everything,” I shrugged, “I mean what more is there to say? I cut my arms to ribbons because I didn’t know what else to do?”

  
  


“I should have never suggested you went and talked to him in the first place…”

  
  


“Mike it’s not your fault. It happened. It’s over and…”

  
  


“I should have been a better friend and not suggested that we go and get trashed. It doesn’t solve anything…”

  
  


“Just numbs the pain, right?”

  
  


Mike sighed sadly, “Something like that.”

  
  


Silence wedged itself between us for a few moments. I felt more and more like I was really in some bad indie film and any moment a director would yell out ‘cut’ and Mike and I would get up and walk outside, preferably into sunshine laden skies and well, all of this shit would turn out to be one fucking bad trip. Or something; anything but reality.

  
  


Mike’s soft hand squeezing mine brought me out of my daydream.

  
  


“Can I look?” he asked tenderly.

  
  


“No,” I uttered, shame washing over me.

  
  


“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

  
  


“Okay,” I whispered, “Okay.”

  
  


Mike shifted beside me and I looked away, my gaze settling on the dirty window with an undesirable view of a back alleyway and a collection of battered cardboard boxes stacked up against the wall. I gulped as his cold hands rolled up my sleeves and started to carefully unravel the thick, white bandages that I’d wrapped around in a drunken haste the night before. I bit my lip and slowly gazed down as Mike’s fingers traced over the damage. Thick, red, angry cuts glared back at me, some still seeping with blood, others turning a nasty orange colour. I could feel my stomach churning again.

  
  


“Let me clean these up properly,” Mike finally spoke, his hands moving from my wrists to tilt my chin so I was forced to look at him, “You weren’t, y’know…”

  
  


_Trying to kill myself_ , I thought and shook my head as the notion swirled around my mind.

  
  


“No,” I whispered.

  
  


“Prom..”

  
  


“I promise you Mike.”

  
  


He nodded and got to his feet, pulling me with him. I reluctantly followed him into the bathroom and found myself being pushed gently into the wooden chair that sat beside a dirt-stained bathtub. I shivered as Mike began to root around in the faded green First Aid box that was pinned to the wall. If I could have summoned up the energy to crawl into the bath, close my eyes and never wake up again then dramatic endings aside, I would have done it.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


“That’s it. That was the fucking second show in a row that you guys completely fucked up.”

  
  


“ _We_  fucked up? What about you Brad? Are you not including yourself here?”

  
  


I stared at the wall in front of me, Brad and Phi’s angry shouts from behind me echoing in my mind. Brad was right. We fucked up. All of us. In fact I’d been off the stage before the set had even ended, my mic having blown and completely cut out. I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing in all honesty. I hadn’t cared too much at the time, the crowd had been sparse and those unfortunate enough to be watching had yet again been too drunk to care. I’d crashed off the stage and stumbled down the corridor that led to the dressing room I was sitting in right now. Having almost knocked the door off its hinges I had then proceeded to tear my hoody and t-shirt off, fling them across the room and slam my body into the chair I was sitting in. My breathing had just about returned to normal and I hadn’t moved since.

  
  


“We need to get our shit together,” Rocky interjected, “You all fucked up. Jesus, I thought last night was bad enough. This really was the fucking limit. You know that a label rep can just turn up at any point? You do realise that guys? What if they had one here tonight? That’s your asses and mine off this tour. Chester will you fucking turn around and face the rest of us.”

  
  


I slowly turned around, scraping my chair noisily along the concrete floor beneath me. I could feel everyone’s eyes on me, expectant gazes wanting answers. I could feel them all staring at the blood soaked bandages on my arms. Well, let them start asking questions because quite frankly I was too pissed to even give a damn any more. I hadn’t even sat back down again before Rocky was swooping down on me like a vulture.

  
  


“What happened out there Chester? Would you care to enlighten me?”

  
  


“My mic fucked up,” I shrugged.

  
  


“Bullshit,” Brad growled, “You couldn’t be fucking bothered throughout the whole set.”

  
  


“Brad, lay off him,” Phoenix cut in.

  
  


“Chester what’s going on? Is something bothering you? Are you sick?” Rocky asked.

  
  


I shook my head.

  
  


“Are you sure?” Rocky continued, his eyes wavering from my face to my arms, “Want to tell us what happened?”

  
  


“I smashed a mirror,” I shrugged, feeling pleased with myself for coming up with at least half the truth. They didn’t need to know the part about me dragging the shards of glass down the insides of my arms.

  
  


Rocky nodded. Probably because he didn’t know what to say to me. I started to feel bad. It wasn’t his fault, in fact it was my fault. I’d really fucked up two shows in a row.

  
  


“And I’m sorry,” I breathed out, “It won’t happen again,” I paused, glancing at Mike who was sitting cross-legged on the floor, “I swear.”

  
  


“Are we talking about slitting your wrists or fucking up the show?” Brad asked with a cocky smile.

  
  


“Both,” I replied, my surprisingly calm words drowned out by Mike hurling the glass of water he’d been drinking from in Brad’s direction. It narrowly missed, smashing into thousands of tiny pieces as it connected with the hard floor.

  
  


“Watch it Mike, Chester might want to play with the glass… Maybe you could join him?”

  
  


“That was fucking low,” Mike hissed, getting to his feet.

  
  


“Mike stay here,” Rocky called out.

  
  


“No,” Mike snapped, his hand on the door, “If I stay here I might break that fucker’s neck.”

  
  


The door slammed shut behind him and I got up from my seat, grabbing my shirt as I stormed out of the room, Rocky’s exasperated face the last thing I saw as the door swung shut behind me. I pulled on my shirt as I raced down the corridor.

  
  


“Mike?” I shouted as his shadow slipped around the corner, “Mike wait…” I stopped as I turned the corner, almost smacking into him, “I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I’m sorry I fucked things up.”

  
  


“It’s not you,” he shook his head, running a hand through his hair. “I can’t stand the way he talks to you. I just had to get out of there. I’m so fucking…” he paused and covered his face with his hands, “I’m so fucking tired of everything,” he murmured.

  
  


I slipped my arms around him, enveloping him in a bear hug, “Me too,” I whispered.

  
  


“Hey you two… Oh…”

  
  


I looked up to see Coby walking toward us, his smile fading as he reached where we were standing. I pulled away from Mike and wiped my eyes with the back of my hands.

  
  


“Everything okay?” Coby asked.

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “Just tired that’s all…”

  
  


Coby nodded and gazed across to Mike, “Well, if you’re in need of an escape tonight I’ll be around here somewhere,” he smiled softly, “I have to get on stage. I can hear my fans calling me,” he joked, “See you later.”

  
  


Of course Mike and I ended up with the rest of Papa Roach, a few random groupies and a lot of flowing alcohol at another motel in another derelict part of  _another_  tired city. It was still hot and most people were shirtless, some of the girls who’d been in the crowd earlier on were even pant-less, writhing about with one another to the heavy music that was playing and leaving very little to the imagination.

  
  


I turned into the bathroom where I’d left Mike and Coby a few minutes ago when I’d gone in search of beer. I’d already downed several Bacardi Breezers and two glasses of some neon green cocktail. I knew getting drunk wasn’t going to make things better in the long run but I was past caring. I just wanted to forget. I pushed the door shut behind me and placed the crate of beer on the floor that I had just jacked from the corner of the motel room. Mike and Coby were making out in the corner of the bathroom, Coby pinning Mike against the cool tiled floor. I cleared my throat with a smirk as they pulled away and looked up at me with red cheeks and bloodshot eyes.

  
  


“Beer?” I asked, sitting down on the floor with a thud. I uncapped a bottle and started to drink it, aware that it was almost half gone by the time Coby sidled over and grabbed himself a bottle.

  
  


“Much appreciated,” he laughed out loud, “This is the life hey?”

  
  


“It depends, because if you’re drinking to forget like us then maybe it’s not the life,” I deadpanned.

  
  


“Is he always this much fun?” Coby asked Mike.

  
  


“Believe me this is his fun side,” Mike smiled.

  
  


I was too busy downing my bottle of beer to shout a reply so I raised my middle finger up at him instead.

  
  


“Here’s to drinking into oblivion,” I finally said, reaching forward and grabbing another bottle.

  
  


“Come on man, we should probably call it a night,” Mike sighed, getting to his feet.

  
  


“What?!” I asked indignantly, “Since when have you needed beauty sleep? Besides you’re not supposed to be the sensible one.”

  
  


“Yeah well,” Mike shrugged, “Just this once I’m going to be.”

  
  


“Don’t I get a kiss goodnight?” Coby smiled.

  
  


Mike blushed, “You could always come back…”

  
  


“If you’re going to have sex…” I started, slamming my empty bottle to the floor and groveling around to pick up another one.

  
  


“We can be quiet,” Coby smirked, getting to his feet.

  
  


“What?” I frowned, “Can I take this with me?” I asked, motioning to the stack of bottles.

  
  


“I think you’ve had enough.”

  
  


I gazed up at Mike who swooped down and wrapped his arms under mine, “Come on. You can’t even stand up on your own.”

  
  


“I can,” I protested weekly, pushing his arms away and very nearly falling flat on my face.

  
  


“Oh you’re funny Chester,” Coby laughed, patting me on the back, “Do you think he’s drunk enough to consent to a threesome?”

  
  


“I’m certainly not,” Mike deadpanned, “Come on Chester,” he sighed, wrapping his arm around my waist, “Man I never thought I’d see the day I was carrying you to bed…”

  
  


We walked through the smoke-filled room and I remembered thinking how familiar it all looked. Mike’s grip on me tightened as he led me outside despite the fact I was swearing at him to let me go back. A part of me suddenly wanted to say that this was the wrong way around, to ask him when he started being bothered about having too much to drink but I snapped that thought in two, instead berating myself for being such a heartless bastard. He knew I’d tried to kill myself before; he knew how much it hurt to see someone go through that, just like I did too. All he was showing was concern yet in my drunken state all I could do was argue.

  
  


We made it to our room and I felt myself being lowered onto my bed, my hands automatically clutching the soft sheets beneath me.

  
  


“I’m so tired,” I groaned as Mike pulled off my boots, “I think I drank too much.”

  
  


“Well at least you know,” Mike smiled softly, “Go to sleep Chester.”

  
  


“Okay,” I heard myself whispering as I pulled a pillow under my head and rolled onto my other side, watching Mike as he walked over to Coby.

  
  


“I take it you didn’t bring me back here for coffee,” Coby asked.

  
  


Mike simply shook his head.

  
  


“Fine,” Coby shrugged, “You want to score. You know what to do.”

  
  


I frowned, trying my hardest to focus as Mike nodded his head. Moments later they were both sitting on the edge of his bed, kissing one another; softly at first but then something hungrier seemed to take over and Coby’s hands were clawing their way into Mike’s short hair, pulling him closer.

  
  


I closed my eyes, rubbed my head with the palm of my hands. I shouldn’t have drunk anything. I could feel the stinging sensation prickling the back of my throat from one too many Vodka shots. Oh yes, the shots. I’d almost forgotten about them. Mike and I had started them before we’d slipped onto Papa Roach’s tour van in the bar we’d played in. Then Mike had declared he wasn’t going to drink anything else and I had shrugged and picked up a bottle of Jack Daniels that Tobin had passed my way. Then we’d passed around a joint and then we’d arrived at the motel, trying to act sober as we all checked in.

  
  


I was either going to feel like shit in the morning or I was going to have one of those awful highs that lasted until mid afternoon the following day when I’d suddenly faint and feel like I’d been hit by a truck.

  
  


“Yeah, that’s it. God you know how to work for your…  _Shit_ …”

  
  


I cracked my eyes open. Mike was on his knees. On the floor. Coby’s hands were wrapped around his head, his eyes closed and his mouth slightly open. I found myself staring as Mike’s head bobbed back and forth and his fingers dug into Coby’s naked thighs. I couldn’t tear my eyes away until Coby violently shoved Mike’s head back, tugged him to his feet and pulled him down into his lap. At that point I squeezed my eyes shut and pulled the pillow over my head.

  
  


“Fuck… Wait… Shit…”

  
  


My eyes fluttered open again and I peeked out from under my pillow as Mike’s voice floated around the room. They’d moved; Mike on all fours with his jeans around his ankles; Coby pushing himself inside him as he gripped onto his hips. My throat suddenly felt dry and I held onto the pillow tightly, watching as Coby began to thrust himself in and out, his groans echoing off the walls.

  
  


Then I suddenly became aware of a pair of eyes locking with mine but I couldn’t look away. I felt out of breath and clammy and my brain seemed to have forgotten how to function properly. I couldn’t move as Coby’s thrusts got faster and harder and his hands sunk further into Mike’s flesh. I couldn’t stop fucking staring.

  
  


Neither could Mike.

  
  


“Oh God…”

  
  


Coby was hardly quiet as he came and suddenly I was rolling over onto my side, clutching my pillow and hoping that no one could hear how hard my heart was pounding.

  
  


A few minutes passed before I heard shuffling around, clothes being put back on, belt buckles clanking as they were done up.

  
  


“There you go,” I heard Coby whispering, “That should keep you going for a few days.”

  
  


My head felt fuzzy as I rolled onto my back and watched Coby passing Mike a small packet. Mike mumbled something I didn’t quite catch and held the packet in his hands, allowing Coby to plant a soft kiss against his forehead before he left the room. Mike slowly sat down on the bed, still holding the packet in his hands. He raised his head but before I could let him see me watching I shifted onto my side, pulling the sheets around me and closing my eyes.

  
  


_Fuck._

  
  


That’s all I could think.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


I could hear screaming when I woke up. At first I thought I was still dreaming about being chased by Coby Dick who was brandishing drumsticks and wearing a gold dress. My head felt fuzzy and as I opened my eyes I couldn’t help but laugh. Some fucking dream. Then I heard the screams again; louder this time. I ran a hand through my hair and swung my legs over the side of my bed. The room was spinning around me as I reached for my cell phone to check the time.

  
  


Another scream filled my ears, followed by another one and by the time I’d shoved my feet into my boots and grabbed my hoody they were getting even more frantic.

  
  


“Mike?” I whispered as I approached his bed, “Mike can you…” I stopped as I peered at the ruffled sheets because he wasn’t there anymore, “Fine. You sneak out on me,” I smiled, glancing at my cell phone, “Even if it is nearly three in the morning…”

  
  


I stopped talking. There were more voices now, raised and panicked. I crossed the room and opened the door, stumbling out into the dark corridor where the shouts got louder. I wasn’t sure why I was following them down the corridor, across the courtyard and along the top balcony. I wasn’t sure when I realised who the shouts belonged to because as soon as I saw Brad and Mike facing one another a few yards from me, covered in blood and shaking all my rational thoughts just faded away.

  
  


“What’s fucking going on?” I called, my feet striding over the stone floor.

  
  


“Oh God,” Brad rolled his eyes, “Go back to bed. Like I told the nosey old man who just came out, this is between Mike and I, no one else.”

  
  


“Mike?” I frowned, reaching out tentatively.

  
  


“Get the fuck off him,” Brad snarled, slapping my hand away and shoving Mike firmly against the wall.

  
  


“No Brad. You get the fuck off him.”

  
  


“Guys what’s going on? It’s three in the morning and you’re starting to wake the whole… Fuck…”

  
  


I turned around as Rob approached us, his hair disheveled and his shirt pulled on back to front.

  
  


“I just got here,” I shrugged, “Whatever you guys are arguing about, how about you come back to our room and sort it out there?”

  
  


“Oh you think you can sort everything out?” Brad snapped, swaying slightly.

  
  


“Are you drunk?” I hissed, “Fuck Brad just…”

  
  


“He had no right to talk to me like that.”

  
  


“I said I was sorry,” That was Mike and I frowned as the words tumbled from his lips; his bloodied lips I hasten to add.

  
  


“Yeah I’m sure you were. Sorry heh? Sorry for what? Throwing a fucking glass at me or sorry for sticking up for your dear friend here?”

  
  


“Okay Brad, that’s enough,” Rob shouted, pushing in front of me and grabbing him by the arms, “We’re going to get you sobered up.”

  
  


“Get the fuck off me,” Brad retaliated, shoving Rob forcefully away, so much so that he crashed into the wall with a sickening crunch.

  
  


I reached forward and grabbed Mike by the hand.

  
  


“You just can’t let us be can you?” Brad yelled, taking Mike by the arm, “What is it with you Chester, huh?”

  
  


“Let go of him,” I sighed, “Just let go and go sort yourself out.”

  
  


“Oh yeah! Because I’m really the one who needs sorting out, aren’t I? Why don’t you do that yourself Chester?”

  
  


“Fuck you…”

  
  


“Oh,” Brad laughed, “Did I hit a nerve? Going to go and cut your wrists open now because the pain’s too much to take,” he spat, a manic laugh following his words.

  
  


“Shut the fuck up,” Mike growled, “Just get off me and…”

  
  


“No, you shut the fuck up,” Brad hissed, tightening his grip on Mike’s arm, “Just go back to bed the pair of you. Mike and I have a few…”

  
  


Brad was cut off as Rob swung his fist smack into his face. For a few moments I just stood and stared, my mouth agape as Brad clutched his nose and doubled over in pain. I’d been wanting to see that happen for a very long time.

  
  


“I’m sorry man but you fucking asked for that,” Rob panted, “Now can we please go back…”

  
  


“You did not just do that.”

  
  


“I fucking well did,” Rob was seething by now, “What in God’s name is wrong with you? This is not you Brad. In the future I suggest you lay off the drink.”

  
  


I watched as Brad glared back at Rob, blood dripping from his nose. For a while the pair of them just stood there staring at one another and it wasn’t until I cleared my throat that their eyes turned to me.

  
  


“Let’s just go back to our room, we can all sit down and talk.”

  
  


“There’s nothing to talk about,” Brad hissed.

  
  


“So why is Mike covered in blood? Why does he look like he’s had enough of your shit?” I asked, stepping closer to Mike, “Are you okay?” I asked him, lowering my voice.

  
  


“I’m fine,” He lied, “We’re fine. Honestly. Nothing to worry about whatsoever…”

  
  


“Hear that, did you?” Brad asked, his face right in mine when I turned around.

  
  


“Just go,” I shook my head, “I think you’ve done enough damage here.”

  
  


“Why don’t you go?” Brad snarled, “Mike and I were in the middle of something, weren’t we?”

  
  


“Brad just go,” Mike croaked, “You’re making things worse,” he murmured, staring down at the ground.

  
  


Brad threw his arms in the air, “Worse? How am I making things worse? It’s these two being here that are making things worse. I just want to talk,” His voice softened, “In private. Now,” he paused, grabbing Mike’s arms and pulling him away from me, “Let’s go and talk.”

  
  


“Get off me,” Mike hissed, struggling against Brad’s vice-like grip; Brad however was having none of it and yanked Mike away from the wall, pushing him along the balcony, further, it seemed, away from Rob and I.

  
  


“Fuck Brad! ‘The fuck are you playing at?” I yelled, Rob fast behind me as I tried to prize Mike from his angry clutches.

  
  


“I said get the fuck away,” Brad screamed, his voice filling me with utter fear. Sure, I’d seen Brad pissed one or two times too many but this just seemed to top them all. His eyes were black as he turned to look at me and I, for some stupid reason, froze to the ground.

  
  


And then all I saw was Rob flying forward, Brad knocking him back and losing his clutch of Mike. Everything else happened in slow motion. It was all one big fucking cliché; me running towards Mike but getting pushed aside by Brad who grabbed onto him as I stumbled to the floor. There was a vile taste of blood in my mouth as I got to my feet; quickly replaced with an even stronger taste of fear as Brad’s hands tackled to hold Mike still.

  
  


Then speed caught up with us; flashing before my eyes as Brad’s hands connected with Mike’s chest, shoving forcefully, pushing Mike’s body over the edge of the balcony.

  
  


Then all I could hear were my blood curdling screams as they bounced off the cold walls behind me.

  
  
  


+

  
  


“Do you think we’re going to start getting loyalty points for sitting in hospital waiting rooms? We seem to have been in and out of these places a lot lately…”

  
  


“Shut up Phoenix,” Rob tutted from where he sat beside me, holding a crumpled paper bag to my mouth, “Ignore him,” he muttered.

  
  


“I’m sorry. I was just trying to lighten the atmosphere.”

  
  


“Well don’t bother. Go and call Joe, see if he’s found Brad yet.”

  
  


I heard Phi’s sneakers squeaking against the floor as he walked out of the cold room and only opened my eyes when the door clicked shut. The bright lights above me made me squint for a few seconds and I shakily rubbed my hand against the back of my eyes as they adjusted to the invasion of light.

  
  


“You okay?” Rob asked.

  
  


It was a stupid question but Rob hadn’t meant anything but concern. It’s just that, how could I be okay after watching Mike being pushed over a balcony, after creeping forward and looking over the edge to see his body landing in a swimming pool full of muddy water with a heavy splash? Somehow my legs had managed to carry me down the metal stairwell and somehow I’d managed to jump in and pull him out. I could still taste the dirt in my mouth as I’d struggled and spluttered through the water and dragged him to safety. I could still feel the utter fear that had hammered through my entire body as I’d blown air into his mouth and begged him to open his eyes.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I simply nodded and Rob moved the paper bag away, the one he’d been using to help me breathe ever since we’d arrived in the hospital, shaking, out of breath and full of tears.

  
  


That had been over three hours ago and there was still no word on Mike. I coughed and leant my head against Rob’s shoulder, closing my eyes again. My ears stung from the loud ambulance sirens.

  
  


“I’ll wake you when there’s some news.”

  
  


“I can’t sleep,” I shook my head and reopened my eyes as the door opened.

  
  


“Think there’s someone here to see you,” The young doctor that had been treating Mike smiled as he pushed a pale looking, wheelchair bound Mike through the door.

  
  


I was instantly on my feet, rushing over to him and gently wrapping my arms around him as I crouched down. He felt freezing and I could feel his heart hammering away as I held him against me. I really didn’t want to let go.

  
  


“Oh God,” I whispered, “Are you okay?”

  
  


I felt him nodding his head in response and pulled away, my eyes scanning over his bruised cheek; his split lip.

  
  


“He’s fine,” The Doctor started, “Luckily for him that he fell into a swimming pool that was actually full of water. It cushioned his fall so when he landed the impact was pretty harmless,” he paused, making motions with his arms, “It looks like he hit his chest at some point on the way down which would explain why he lost consciousness. You did well though Chester, if he’d had been in the water any longer,” he paused again, “Well,” he stopped and cleared his throat, “X-rays came back just fine. Mike just has some bruising to the ribs for which I offered to prescribe some painkillers.”

  
  


I gulped as  _that_  memory came flashing back.

  
  


“But he’s refused to take them,” he shrugged, “He’s also decided to discharge himself despite the fact I wouldn’t mind him staying in for observation. Just make sure you take it easy,” he told Mike, “Now if you’ll excuse me.”

  
  


“Uhh, sure,” I stuck my hand out, “Thank you.”

  
  


He smiled and left the room, an eerie silence filling his place.

  
  


“I’ll go call Rocky,” Rob suddenly spoke, brushing past me, “I’m so glad you’re okay man,” he told Mike but as the tears began to pour down his face once Rob’s footsteps were fading down the corridor it was clear that Mike was anything  _but_  okay.

  
  


“What the fuck happened back then?” I found myself frantically asking.

  
  


“I don’t…”

  
  


“Please Mike, just tell me.”

  
  


“I went out for some fresh air. I did some coke and my head was feeling a bit woozy. Brad was outside, he’d seen Coby leave and, well, he just wanted to warn me to stay away from him. Apparently he’s a bad influence… We argued and I was trying to walk away just as you turned up…”

  
  


“He’s got no right to tell you who you can and can’t associate with. So what, he used his fists again?”

  
  


“No,” Mike shook his head, “It wasn’t like that.”

  
  


“Then how’d you come to get blood all over you before you were pushed?”

  
  


“I tripped,” he uttered, “I was running away from Brad because I was scared. I tripped over.”

  
  


“Why didn’t you just come back to our room?”

  
  


Mike shrugged, “I don’t know.”

  
  


“Fuck Mike. I didn’t think I was going to see you again,” I whispered, “Not breathing anyway…”

  
  


“Apparently you saved me,” he murmured, swatting his tears away.

  
  


“Yeah. Kiss of life and everything…”

  
  


Mike slowly began to chuckle.

  
  


“What?!”

  
  


“I had Coby’s dick in my mouth…”

  
  


“I know,” I smiled.

  
  


“You were watching.”

  
  


I felt myself blushing, “I don’t remember. I was drunk.”

  
  


“That’s a shame.”

  
  


I frowned, “What do you mean…”

  
  


“I found Rocky outside,” Rob was standing in the doorway, “You ready?”

  
  


It was a good few months before I found out exactly what Mike had meant.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


It was funny, in a non hysterical way, that twenty-four hours previous to that moment Mike had been attending to  _my_ sorry wounds. He’d been sitting on some cold bathroom floor with me in his arms, holding me whilst I’d explained the anger that had ripped through me and made me slash my arms to pieces.

  
  


Then all of sudden, barely a day later, the pendulum had swung back around and there I was holding  _him_  and trying to make him believe that things would be okay. The thing is that neither of us could quite keep hold of the little amount of hope we could find.

  
  


And so that tour continued, stumbling by in a drunken blur and a sleepy blanket of drugs and illicit sex. We sang our hearts out night after night for the remaining shows, channelling all our feelings into each performance and then we stayed up all night partying like animals or getting stoned out of our minds. We knew it was a case of pure reckless abandonment but we were too low; too far gone to care. The drink, the drugs? They were our only salvation. Or so we were fooling ourselves.


	14. I wanted to be that breath of fresh air

“I never thought I’d hear myself say this but I’m pretty glad to be home,” I whispered through the dark stillness that surrounded Mike and I as we stepped through the door of my parents’ house.

  
  


“Me too,” Mike smiled, a smile that I momentarily realised was probably the most genuine he’d flashed me in a long time.

  
  


It was four in the morning and Rocky had just dropped the pair of us off at the top of the road. Since the only people Mike and I were talking to were Rob, Joe and our aforementioned long-suffering manager, our goodbyes hadn’t taken all that long and as we’d walked down the street with our overstuffed holdalls and my battered pink suitcases I was pretty sure I could speak for Mike as well and say all we felt was relief.

  
  


The last two weeks had been hell. After the ‘accident’, as Brad was having the audacity to call it, nothing seemed to be quite the same. And sadly, not in a good way. Rocky did his best to get us all to sit down and talk about what had happened but with Brad’s monosyllabic grunts for answers and Mike’s lack of enthusiasm to even be in the same room as him it all seemed like a pointless effort. Then there was the small matter of Phoenix and I and the fact he’d lied to me ever since I’d known him.

  
  


No, I still couldn’t let it go.

  
  


No one seemed to be that enthusiastic about getting along like we once had except Joe who tried to get us all to go out to Burger King or KFC or anywhere that seemed to sell fried chicken and fries. It hadn’t worked and he seemed to have resigned to that fact, hiding away with his value meals for one and some nights crying down the phone to his wife. I felt so bad but I also felt like I didn’t have the words to say to help him or  _anyone_  for that matter. Rob had become addicted to caffeine and weed, using the former to perk himself up when he’d overdone it with the late nights. And then there was Mike who had started to drift further into his old habits, but for once I’d not been telling him to stop; I’d been there with him and suddenly I’d felt bad for all the nagging I’d done before because honestly, when we were so drunk we could barely stand or when we were seeing who could snort the most cocaine off a random bathroom floor I felt a lot better than when I was sober and thinking about Josh and Phoenix and worrying about Mike.

  
  


I suddenly realised I was standing in a badly lit hallway trying to put the world to rights in my mind when my own, proper, non-confining bed was waiting for me. I grabbed my bags and followed Mike into my room, pushing the door shut as I flicked on the lights. Everything was illuminated in a moment and I sighed with relief as I gazed around my bedroom. Why did it suddenly feel so good to be back here when I’d spent so long trying to get away? I’d even resorted to having my cell switched off, which had probably been careless as I’d turned it on last night to the tune of several missed calls and messages beeping at me to inform me that I’d become an uncle not long after we’d left.

  
  


I dumped my cases behind the door and kicked off my shoes. I needed a shower badly. And a haircut. And a good meal and probably everything else Lila would list off for me tomorrow when she saw me. First of all, I needed a good nights sleep because I hadn’t slept properly since my row with Phoenix. I’d spent most nights either smoking myself into oblivion or at some mindless party, usually lying on the floor with Coby and Mike. Or sometimes Rob and a bottle of Jack.

  
  


“Ahh,” I smiled as I slid into my bed and pulled the covers around me, “This feels strangely good,” I murmured as my head hit my soft, plump pillow, “I don’t expect you to sleep on the couch,” I told Mike, yawning as I snuggled beneath the sheets.

  
  


“Thanks,” he smiled, switching off the light before he slipped into the bed beside me, “Sleep tight.”

  
  


I thought that was ironic really, considering neither of us had slept  _tight_  for the past few weeks. If I hadn’t been staring into space and trying to get my mind to shut down then Mike had been waking me up in floods of tears or utter hysterics or just gasping for breath from the night terrors that had started to plague him.

  
  


A few hours later I woke up with a growling stomach, my senses immediately roused by the strong smell of bacon that was wafting in from the kitchen. I opened my eyes and stretched out, my arm connecting with Mike’s comatose body next to me. I narrowed my eyes, scrutinizing the black bruise that had formed around his left eye and wondered if it had been there the day before. I couldn’t remember. In fact, I couldn’t remember a lot of things which when I thought about it was pretty disturbing.

  
  


Pushing my sudden case of amnesia aside I gently traced my thumb across the blackened skin beneath Mike’s eye, hissing as I felt an ugly bump.

  
  


“Sorry,” I mumbled as he woke with a start, his bleary eyes darting around the room.

  
  


“S’ok,” He croaked, “What’s the time?”

  
  


“Half eight,” I told him, glancing up at my trusty Darth Vader clock, “You sleep okay?”

  
  


“Hmm, eventually,” Mike nodded, “Like a baby.”

  
  


“Speaking of babies,” I smiled, “I think my mom’s going to be pissed at me.”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“Because I came home empty-handed for my niece.”

  
  


Mike smiled, “Wow you’re a shit uncle who forgot.”

  
  


“Oi! And don’t call me an uncle. It makes me feel old.”

  
  


“Dude you are old.”

  
  


“Excuse me!”

  
  


Mike laughed and whacked me over the head with my pillow. It felt good to be back here.

  
  


“Let’s go to Pat’s Baskets. She’s bound to have something,” I nodded, flinging the covers away.

  
  


“What? Now?”

  
  


“Yes now.”

  
  


“Why do I have to come?” He whined.

  
  


“For your thoughtful input of course,” I grinned, clambering over him and getting to my feet, “Good job we didn’t bother getting undressed last night,” I mused out loud as I pushed my feet into my shoes.

  
  


“Mkay,” Mike mumbled, getting to his feet and finding his shoes.

  
  


I grabbed my wallet from out of my suitcase and we headed out of the house and into the bright sunshine that had decided to grace the Earth with its pleasure that day.

  
  


For half eight in the morning, which I considered to be the crack of fucking dawn, the heat was almost unbearable. My tight jeans seemed to be clinging to me like a second skin and as Mike and I walked down the street I decided an extremely cold shower followed by doing absolutely nothing was the only way I was going to be spending the day.

  
  


“I’m so glad to be home,” Mike smiled, “Well, it’s not really home but you know what I mean,” He carried on as we turned the corner, “I guess I should go and visit my mom?”

  
  


“I’ll drive you there this evening if you want?”

  
  


Mike nodded and I couldn’t help but note the sadness that had suddenly appeared in his eyes. We crossed the road and headed down the gravel sidewalk.

  
  


“You okay?” I asked.

  
  


“Hmmm,” He nodded.

  
  


“Look, she’ll be fine, okay?”

  
  


“And what if she isn’t? What if she’s not there? What if she’s fucking dead?”

  
  


“Mike,” I sighed, grabbing him by the wrist, “Stop it.”

  
  


“Sorry,” He shook his head, “I…”

  
  


“Shut up,” I smiled.

  
  


The general store of doom looked the same as it had the day Mike and I had left. Same green door, lacking yet another layer of chipped paint which flaked and drifted to the floor as we stepped inside. Fuck, it even smelled the same and I followed Mike inside, smiling at him knowingly as a guy our age sat behind the counter staring into the wall. I felt for him, I really fucking did. I’d been there and got the fucking bored-out-of-my-skull memories.

  
  


After much deliberation and losing Mike to the wines and spirits aisle I picked out a card and a yellow spotted onesie. Yes, you could find anything in this dive. The desperately bored cashier was just placing my purchases in a paper bag when I saw Mike sliding a bottle of Jack Daniels into the inside of his hoody. I shoved my change into my back pocket and watched him as he walked toward me, his body brushing past me as he headed for the door smooth as anything.

  
  


Grabbing my bag, I followed him outside and it wasn’t until we were a good two blocks away that I opened my mouth.

  
  


“Mike I could have paid for that y’know.”

  
  


His face twisted into a smile.

  
  


“Idiot.”

  
  


“I’m thirsty,” He shrugged, stepping out into the road and pulling the bottle out from under his hoody.

  
  


I stayed on the kerb side as he crossed, dejected sigh tumbling from my lips. A frown stretched across his face as he turned to look at me from the other side, unscrewing the cap of the bottle and downing some of it like it were lemonade. A few trucks whizzed past and it gave me time to take a long, hard look at him.

  
  


“Stealing alcohol,” I started as I reached him, “Mike that’s fucking low.”

  
  


“Thanks for kicking me when I’m down,” He smiled.

  
  


I grabbed his arm as he started to walk off.

  
  


“No,” I told him, “We’re taking the scenic route.”

  
  


My words were met with a scowl. A scowl which I did very well to ignore.

  
  


“Next it will be cocaine for breakfast,” I muttered as we walked back along the street.

  
  


“Says the guy who was drinking vodka at nine o’clock yesterday morning.”

  
  


And I shut my mouth at that point, sinking my hands into my pocket as if admitting defeat. Besides, Mike was right. I was being ever-so-slightly hypocritical. We reached the playground that backed onto my parents’ house and I hopped over the wooden fence, trudging toward the slide so I could sit down for a minute and maybe, collect my thoughts.

  
  


“Mike?” I called out as he tried to sidle past me.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


I patted the space of slide in front of me and after a few minutes of huffing and glaring he finally sat down, his warm back pressing against my stomach. He placed the Jack Daniels on the grass beneath our feet.

  
  


“I’m sorry. I had no right to say that.”

  
  


“It’s kinda true,” He shrugged, “Guess I’m really turning into my Mother now. She used to steal bottles of Vodka from every other gas station. She even used to tuck them into my stroller when I was a toddler. Then she got me to do it for her if she was too fucked up. Drowning my sorrows, I guess, before you ask.”

  
  


“What for?”

  
  


“What do you think Chester? That whole tour was a fucking mess.”

  
  


“The label reps were impressed.”

  
  


“Yeah with the show. They didn’t see anything else, thank fuck or we’d be out on our asses.”

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“Are you really glad to be back?”

  
  


He shrugged, “Guess I’m going to miss Coby in some weird, fucked up way.”

  
  


“Are things with him over?”

  
  


He nodded.

  
  


“Did you like him a lot?”

  
  


Mike smiled as he turned to face me, “Chester he was a player and I fell for his tricks.”

  
  


I sighed, reached out my index finger to brush away a tiny piece of glitter from the corner of his eye.

  
  


“But now I think about it, it suited me. I didn’t like him like that,” He smiled, no doubt at the frown my forehead had scrunched into, “I’m just worried how I’m going to score now,” Mike sighed matter-of-factly.

  
  


“You make it sound like you were only with him for one reason,” I whispered hesitantly.

  
  


“Chaz… You know what I did to score off him,” He sighed, fiddling with the hem of my shirt, “I guess it wasn’t enough in his eyes.”

  
  


“Why’d you do it?” I sighed.

  
  


“Do what?”

  
  


“You know what…”

  
  


“Sleep with people for drugs?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I swallowed, “That…”

  
  


“Because I have no money?”

  
  


“I don’t get it though Mike, I mean the past few weeks I’ve done nothing but drink and get high with you, Coby dealt me those lines and injected that shit inside me for nothing - he said it was his way of paying me to hide his gear? So… what Mike? What the fuck?”

  
  


“I was… I was sleeping with him for it all.”

  
  


“Okay…” I gulped, “Do you mean that,” I paused, “That he was making you pay for everything in that way?”

  
  


Mike nodded.

  
  


“What the fuck? What sort of a friend is he? I thought that…”

  
  


“He’s a dealer. Not a friend.”

  
  


“So what,” I waved my hands in the air, “I’m so fucking naïve? Is that it? Why can’t I ever see what’s going on right in front of my fucking face? It’s like I’m too wrapped up in my own thoughts and I really hate myself for it. And God, why do you have to hide things from me?”

  
  


“Chaz it’s not like that. I didn’t hide anything from you.”

  
  


“You didn’t exactly tell me what was going on either.”

  
  


“You never fucking  _asked_.”

  
  


“What was I supposed to ask Mike? I was in fucking pieces.”

  
  


“I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” he sighed, “I can’t explain it without… without being scared that you’ll think of me differently, that you’ll be disappointed in me.”

  
  


“Haven’t I always told you that nothing could do that?” I asked, “I wish you’d open up Mike. We used to tell each other everything…”

  
  


“I still do… This is more like something I’ve only just realised, something I find fucking weird myself and it scares me…”

  
  


“What?” I frowned.

  
  


“I… I find myself able to sleep around with strangers, with people I don’t particularly care for because there’s no deep feelings involved, it’s nothing more than,” He paused, frowning as he tried to find the right word, “Well, lust I guess? And I know it makes me a slut, and it’s even worse that I’ll just fucking lie back and take it without a second glance in return for drugs because all I really want is to be high and anything but in this state of mind,” He shrugged.

  
  


I found myself, too, struggling for words, “So… you like having sex, it’s not abnormal.”

  
  


“No,” Mike shook his head, “That’s exactly it. I hate it. I can’t do it with anyone I care for or have an ounce of respect towards. I get nervous and feel sick and it really, really scares me. But when it’s with someone I don’t know or someone like Coby who’s just another addict, just another dealer who’s just there to get his kicks, I dunno,” he shrugged, “It’s like I don’t care.”

  
  


“Hey,” I breathed out, “Man it’s okay,” I whispered, “It kinda makes sense.”

  
  


“Really?”

  
  


“Yeah, I mean think about it. You’ve been hurt by people you care about in the past so maybe that’s what your mind focuses on when you think about being close with someone  _you_  care about.”

  
  


Mike nodded, “I guess. But there are times when, it’s weird to say this out loud, but there are times when I’m lying there and I’m thinking that this is the way I deserve to be treated…”

  
  


“You don’t deserve that Mike,” I gushed out, “No one does, especially not you. Why do you think that?”

  
  


Mike shrugged, “I guess I just do.”

  
  


“I wish you didn’t.”

  
  


Mike stared out across the park for a few moments, “Sometimes… Sometimes I feel scared to open up. Deep down I know that you won’t judge me or hate me but I’m scared to tell you everything that I’m thinking, no matter how much I fucking wish I could.”

  
  


“Then what’s stopping you?”

  
  


“This,” Mike motioned towards his chest; his heart, “It’s been chipped away at for years now by everyone I’ve ever got close to and you’re the only person in my life who’s never hurt me. I know you wouldn’t do so but sometimes I just get frightened that all this that we have, that our friendship is make believe or a dream and that one day if I tell you something you’ll just disappear like everyone else,” he paused and fiddled with his hands, “Crazy isn’t it?”

  
  


“God… I wish there was something I could do to fix that,” I sighed sadly, “Come here,” I whispered, opening my arms, “Don’t listen to those voices Mike,” I told him as he wrapped his arms around me, “I’m afraid that you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

  
  


Mike chuckled softly, “I hope you’re going to take a shower at some point during that time…”

  
  


“Bastard,” I growled, tightening my arms around him.

  
  


“Argh,” Mike yelped, “I think I’m going to suffocate from your stench.”

  
  


I pulled away, laughing at Mike as he pretended to pass out, “Haha,” I mocked, “Very funny. I have smelled worse y’know. And come to think of it so have you. Remember that night you threw up in bed and then…”

  
  


“Okay, okay,” Mike waved his hands, turning a pale colour as the words came from my mouth, “That’s enough.”

  
  


I smiled and cocked my head to the side before leaning over and brushing my hand across Mike’s forehead, “Don’t keep it all inside,” I sighed, tapping the side of his head.

  
  


Mike nodded and gazed back at me for a while before a smile broke out onto his face.

  
  


“Oh man,” he chuckled, “We so just had a moment.”

  
  


“Ugh,” I rolled my eyes jokingly as got to my feet, “Get over yourself Shinoda,” I laughed, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away from the playground.

  
  


The house was quiet when we stepped in through the open back door. I half wondered if everyone was hiding beneath the kitchen table, waiting to pounce out on us but as I stepped into the room and saw the spread of a half-finished breakfast and chairs that had been pushed to the floor, I thought otherwise.

  
  


“Hello?” I called out, crossing the kitchen to the hallway which was deathly silent, “Anyone home?” I asked, popping my head into an empty lounge.

  
  


“Chester…”

  
  


Mike didn’t need to finish his words as my eyes met with my bedroom door and the chaotic mess that lay beyond it like something out of a war film. I pushed the door open with shaking hands and stepped inside, eyes scanning around the mess of a room. My bed sheets were strewn across the floor along with the bags I’d left unpacked. Only now their contents looked like they’d been shaken up and emptied out in a fit of rage.

  
  


“Chaz what’s…”

  
  


“Chester? Chester is that you?”

  
  


I flung myself around, eyes meeting with a grey haired lady whose name I couldn’t for the life of me remember. All I knew is that she lived across the street with her husband and about twenty cats.

  
  


“How did you get in?” I narrowed my eyes at her accusingly.

  
  


“The door was left open, Oh God, they left in such a hurry.”

  
  


“Sorry…”

  
  


“Your brother’s been taken ill. I don’t know anything just that they’ve taken him to the hospital and I think you better get there right now…”

  
  


I didn’t hear the rest of her words because I was running out of the house and Mike was right behind me.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  
  


The stony look my parents gave me is one I shall never forget. Having been directed to the relatives room by a nurse in green scrubs, Mike and I hesitantly stood in the doorway as my entire family gave me daggers.

  
  


“I… I just got home and that,” I paused, “Lady from across…”

  
  


“I asked her to let you know where we were,” My dad spoke as he got to his feet and squeezed my mom’s shoulder.

  
  


“What… What’s happened. I mean, she said something about Jack, is he okay?”

  
  


“You should come outside with me,” My dad said.

  
  


“No,” My mom suddenly got up, “Let him explain himself in front of everyone.”

  
  


“Honey calm down,” Lila intercepted.

  
  


“No Mom, I shall not calm down. Do you know what you’ve done to my baby?” She hissed, eyes staring right into me.

  
  


“I.. What’s happened?”

  
  


“The fucking cocaine Jack found in your bag Chester, that’s what has happened,” She spat, watching my face pale, “Yeah your brother thought it was  _magic powder_ , thought it’d be good to swallow some of it and…”

  
  


She didn’t finish yelling at me because suddenly there was a doctor in a white coat standing behind me, pushing me aside and striding over to my parents. Hushed words were exchanged then my mom grabbed her handbag and followed the doctor and my dad out. I stared at Mike, tears pricking the corners of my eyes. He reached out and grabbed my hand as Lila and my grandpa trudged out of the room in silence.

  
  


Then I saw Steph in the corner and for the first time, my niece. Way to go, Chester, I thought bitterly to myself.

  
  


“It’s okay,” She looked at me, “I’m not going to bite your head off. His stomach is being pumped,” She paused, “This is Isabel by the way,” She smiled and my feet suddenly decided to function, carrying me in the direction of the stroller that stood beside her.

  
  


I peered inside, eyes widening when they met with the tiny baby that was fast asleep under a neatly wrapped white blanket.

  
  


“She’s beautiful,” I cooed in that way that only a baby can make your voice sound.

  
  


Steph smiled, “You two stink of alcohol.”

  
  


Mike, who was peering into Isabel’s stroller blushed a deep red and I patted my pockets down for some gum, realising I still stank of the vodka I’d downed on the drive back home late last night. Finding some spearmint Wrigley’s at the bottom of my back pocket I popped a slice into my mouth and then remembered that my parents had just stormed out of the room looking pale.

  
  


“Did they, erm, did they say what was wrong?” I asked, my hands suddenly feeling clammy as I paced around the room.

  
  


Steph shook her head and sat back down on one of the bright orange plastic chairs.

  
  


“I’m sorry sis,” I whispered, turning to face her, “Look I’m not some crusty addict if that’s what you’re thinking and you probably have every right to…”

  
  


The sound of Isabel screaming out at the top of her lungs stopped my words.

  
  


“Chester,” Steph sighed, “Just sit down and be quiet.”

  
  


I sidled over to the chair next to her and sat down, patting my pockets down for a cigarette. Hell, I really needed something a lot stronger but this was all I had. Mike was gently rocking Isabel’s stroller, his hands waving a tiny bear in front of her tearstained eyes. I wondered if she was crying because she knew something was wrong but then that notion sounded pretty fucking dumb to me. I mean, she was only a few months old, how could she know anything? And as Mike’s soft words hushed her cries I suddenly longed to be a baby again; young and innocent, wrapped up in a blanket without a care in the world.

  
  


I shook myself from my thoughts and emptied a cigarette out of the box. My fingers were just about to grab my lighter when Steph tutted.

  
  


“You can’t smoke in here,” She sighed.

  
  


“Oh,” I nodded, “Right.”

  
  


“Jesus. You ill or something?” She asked, her pupils narrowing as she leant into me, eyes scrutinizing my face.

  
  


“No,” I frowned, leaning away from her as Mike sat down with a heavy sigh beside me.

  
  


Steph was right. He did stink of alcohol too. What was fucking happening to us? I ran a hand down my dirty pants, looking down at my chewed nails which had, at some point been painted black. Now they were covered in flaking particles of nail polish which I half remembered trying to scrape off with a pair of scissors I’d found in one of the drawers on the RV. I flinched because I vaguely remembered telling Phoenix how much I’d love to stab him in the heart with said scissors.

  
  


“Why don’t you two go home and get yourselves cleaned up?” Steph sighed.

  
  


“I can’t leave,” I stared at the door, suddenly aware that my parents were standing outside a room at the far end of the corridor talking to a stern-faced nurse.

  
  


“Don’t,” Steph and Mike both said in unison as I got to my feet; they obviously had followed my line of vision and both of them clamped a hand to my shoulder.

  
  


“Look I just need to talk to them…”

  
  


“Leave it,” Mike told me and I turned to face him.

  
  


“How’d you get that black eye?” I asked because I hadn’t mentioned the bruise which I’d noticed first thing this morning but now I suddenly felt the need to talk about something other than the fact that my brother was having his stomach pumped.

  
  


Mike didn’t answer and I felt my head begin to pound. I turned away from him and rubbed my temples. Everything around me felt distorted and the room was really starting to spin. I gripped the side of my chair and focused on the fading figures of my parents as they were led through the double doors at the bottom of the corridor.

  
  


I got to my feet at that point.

  
  


“Where are you going?” Mike asked.

  
  


“I really need a cigarette,” I breathed out.

  
  


“I’ll go with him,” I heard him telling Steph as I paced out of the room.

  
  


I still hate myself for what I was thinking. I’ll never stop hating myself. I was so pissed and as I stormed outside, all I could think about was that my baby brother had taken the last lot of cocaine I fucking well had.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Ten cigarettes and four coffees later and I was feeling a lot more lucid than I had been earlier. I sat beside Mike who had barely said a word to me since he’d followed me out into the hospital parking lot.

  
  


“He’s gonna be okay, right?” I asked Mike.

  
  


Mike shrugged, “Chester I don’t know,” He told me truthfully.

  
  


I gazed back at the entrance to ER.

  
  


“We should go back in, right?”

  
  


Mike glanced at his watch. I don’t know what that had to do with anything but he nodded his head and got to his feet, hand outstretched toward me. I took it and let him pull me up. An ambulance veered past us, skidding to a halt before the entrance. Doctors ran to open the doors. A small boy was carried out by a smoke stained medic. A few seconds later a second ambulance mounted the pavement, doors bursting open and more medics appearing this time with even more urgency as they wheeled a gurney down onto the pavement. Shouts and sirens filled the air and then I blinked and they were gone. Just like that.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


I turned to Mike who was staring at me as if I’d grown another head.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“You coming?” He frowned.

  
  


We walked back inside. I shoved more gum in my mouth and headed to the relatives room. Steph was in there with our grandpa. He looked less than impressed to see me and the glare he shot me stabbed at my heart. We had never ever had any form of disagreement but right now he looked like he wanted to throttle me.

  
  


“H.. Hey,” I stuttered out, my throat itchy as the words tumbled into the cold room.

  
  


There were tears streaming down Steph’s face. I was about to ask why when my grandpa got to his feet and marched over to me, wrapping his hand around my wrist and dragging me back out of the room. Mike’s eyes widened as footsteps started to storm across the corridor towards us.

  
  


“Go home,” My grandpa’s voice was a lot softer than I’d expected.

  
  


“What’s…”

  
  


“You bastard! You fucking bastard!”

  
  


I spun around as my mom’s voice shrieked into my ears. I’d never seen her looking like that before. Hair tangled and spilling from its clip; face pale; eyes red; lips pursed into a look of utter hatred. Her hands closed around my neck before I had a chance to move and she slammed me into the wall.

  
  


“You killed him,” She was crying now, “You fucking killed my baby.”


	15. When everything smelled so insincere

Have you ever felt like you’re suffocating? Like you’re drowning? As if you’re being held down under water by a strong hand on your head and no matter how hard you try to get some air there is just no way it’s possible? And so you start to give up, you start to numb and recoil into yourself and just hope and pray that darkness comes damn soon.

  
  


That’s how I felt as I sat on the floor of Rob’s lounge. I stared at the wall, not registering the hushed voices around me. I knew Mike was sitting one side of me holding my hand and I knew that Phoenix was sitting the other side of me rubbing my arm but I couldn’t feel them; I couldn’t feel anything.

  
  


I had no recollection of how I came to be here on Rob’s floor. I couldn’t remember anything that had happened since my mom slapped me in the face and told me I deserved to rot in hell for what I’d done.

  
  


Don’t worry. I totally agreed.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


“He won’t talk.”

  
  


I blinked as a tear skidded down my cheek. I didn’t want to fucking cry. I wasn’t in any position to cry. I’d done this so I had to fucking well deal with it. My tears stopped. At least I could do one thing right. Someone, I think it was Joe, placed a plate of food down in front of me. Like I was fucking hungry. I leaned forward and pushed it aside.

  
  


Then I closed my eyes and was just about aware of Mike squeezing my hand the way he had done every time I flinched or moved a tiny bit.

  
  


“Chester?” His voice was loud and I opened my eyes, realised he was sitting right in front of me.

  
  


“Why don’t you come and lie down?” He asked.

  
  


I nodded my head numbly. Maybe if I could fall asleep, when I woke up it would turn out to be nothing more than a bad dream. Mike’s hands and my sudden desire to meet some state of unconsciousness guided me out of Rob’s lounge and into his bedroom. I was vaguely aware of someone shutting the blinds and someone else helping me into the king sized bed and pulling the covers over me.

  
  


Then I did something really shitty. I fell asleep. I shut the world out and whilst my parents and the rest of my family were choking on heart-wrenching sobs, I closed my eyes and pretended that it had never even happened.

  
  


+

  
  


Mike was lying beside me when I opened my eyes. I couldn’t figure out where I was at first or what time it was or why Mike looked like he’d been crying. All I knew is that I’d just had the best sleep I’d had in ages. No night terrors. No waking up with a cramp in my leg. No loud noises interrupting my slumber. Ironic really.

  
  
  


“Hey,” Mike smiled softly.

  
  


I couldn’t speak at first. I think Mike understood though because I smiled wearily at him and he just brushed a hand through my hair.

  
  


“It’s okay,” He nodded, “Talk when you’re ready.”

  
  


I half managed to mumble the words ‘thank you’ but they didn’t really make it out in any audible manner. I shifted onto my side, closer to Mike who got my hint and wrapped his arms around me.

  
  


“Phoenix is here,” He told me, “And Joe.”

  
  


His words hung awkwardly in the air.

  
  


“And Rob,” He carried on, “Considering we gate-crashed his beautiful apartment. He says we can stay as long as we like, okay?”

  
  


I nodded against Mike’s chest and wrapped my arms around him, hands gripping onto his sides. I can’t explain but I needed to feel something; something lifelike, just so my head could slowly gather things up and realise that no, it hadn’t been a nightmare.

  
  


I’d killed my brother.

  
  


“Can I get you a drink?” Mike asked attentively.

  
  


I shook my head.

  
  


“Okay. You just want to stay here like this, yeah?”

  
  


I nodded my head.

  
  


“Want me to shut up?”

  
  


“No,” I managed to whisper, “Keep talking to me,” I told him, breathing in the faded smell of weed that seemed to cling to his clothes like a second skin.

  
  


“Rob has these cute little rubber ducks in his bathroom. He decorated it since, y’know, I spewed up everywhere and dented the bathtub,” He paused, “And you should see his yard too. It’s like a jungle, but in a nice way, I mean it has all this creeping ivy and rose bushes and his parents have fixed the patio up so he’s going to set up the barbeque later, if you feel like eating,” His voice softened, “Which I don’t suppose you do,” He nudged me, “Chester can you just say something to me now? I’m scared. You usually don’t stop talking.”

  
  


I slowly pulled away from his clutch and looked back at him. He looked fucking awful. His hair was matted and tangled, sticking in all directions and there was a yellow ring forming around his black eye. He’d been biting his lips which I knew was my fault because he only bit his lips when he was really anxious over something.

  
  


“You need to take a shower. You have a tide mark around your neck.”

  
  


Mike blinked several times before his hand came up to swipe around his collar. His fingertips came away black and he turned his nose up.

  
  


“You know, when I said ‘say something’ it could have been something nice.”

  
  


“I can’t think of anything  _nice_  to say right now,” I whispered.

  
  


“Okay,” He nodded, “Sorry. I just… I don’t know what to do.”

  
  


“Hold me?” I shrugged.

  
  


He pulled me into an embrace again and we lay down in the middle of Rob’s bed. The soothing sensation of Mike’s fingertips tracing circles around my back was making me sleepy again. I couldn’t shut my eyes this time though. I knew I wouldn’t be able to sleep again. My fingers looped around the string that was tied through Mike’s hood and I began to fiddle nervously with it.

  
  


“Tell me something,” I whispered.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“Anything,” I shrugged, “Like why you’re so good with babies,” I said, remembering how easily he’d been able to calm Isabel down, “I didn’t know you liked them.”

  
  


Mike smiled, “I have a little sister.”

  
  


“Really?” I frowned, gazing up at him, “I never knew that.”

  
  


“She got taken into care when I was about seven. She was only eight months old. She had these big brown eyes and this amazing smile that she seemed to shine when I was feeling really scared or helpless. My mom pretty much didn’t look after her. We were living in a trailer park at the time, y’know the one near the bus station across town?”

  
  


I nodded. Yeah, I knew the one. Notorious for drug users and prostitutes to hang around and it also happened to be on the news channel every other week because someone would either be getting stabbed or overdosing.

  
  


“It was pretty shitty. And as my mom was, as she put it ‘trying to make us some money’ I was left to care for her.”

  
  


“What’s her name?”

  
  


“Michelle.”

  
  


“Have you seen her since?”

  
  


Mike shook his head, “No. Some nosy old lady reported my mom to social services. I was out when they took her. Well, I was walking back from the grocery store when I saw them putting her into the car. Part of me wanted to chase after them and get her back but a bigger part of me knew it was for the best. She’ll have gone to some family who cares for her and she’ll have all these good grades and get into college. She’ll be fifteen now,” Mike sighed.

  
  


“Will you ever try and find her?” I asked.

  
  


“I dunno,” He shrugged, “I sometimes think about it but then I think she’d probably be a whole lot better off without me in her life.”

  
  


“That’s not true,” I glared at him, “You’re the one person I’d want in my life, no matter what.”

  
  


“I suck Chester. I destroy everything and everyone around me.”

  
  


“That’s bullshit,” I shot back, “You’re here for me now. Holding me. You didn’t leave me. You’re always there when I need you.”

  
  


“Yeah well,” Mike shrugged, “That’s because you’re special. It’s a one person thing only,” He smiled.

  
  


I didn’t get chance to tell him that he was special too because Phoenix walked hesitantly into the room and stood awkwardly in the doorway and suddenly I didn’t want to talk anymore. Pretending I’d not noticed his presence, I buried myself against Mike again, ignoring the way the bed dipped when Phoenix sat down beside us.

  
  


“You two okay?” He asked after pausing for a few seconds.

  
  


“I think so,” Mike replied.

  
  


Phi’s hand slid against my back. I shuddered and closed my eyes.

  
  


“Chaz, listen we’re all really sorry for what happened,” He told me.

  
  


I bit my lip. I scrunched fistfuls of Mike’s hoody in my hand. The bed shifted again and I held my breath until I heard the bedroom door clicking shut. I could taste something salty against my lip and took a deep breath. I was not going to cry. I was not allowed to cry. I’d caused all of this so sitting around feeling sorry for myself was really out of the fucking question. I opened my eyes and slowly pulled away from Mike.

  
  


“He means well,” Mike told me as I wiped the lonesome tear away.

  
  


I didn’t respond and stood up, looking down at my body in disgust. Christ, I hadn’t changed my clothes in a week and the last shower I’d taken had been four days ago. It had been a cold one. I had been drunk. It may have involved Jerry from Papa Roach as I had vague recollections of the pair of us getting naked together in some motel room but I couldn’t quite remember anything else.

  
  


“Where you going?” Mike asked, looking uneasy as I walked toward the door.

  
  


“Shower. Then food. Rob does a mean barbeque and I don’t know about you but I feel like my stomach is starting to eat itself,” I grinned.

  
  


“You sure you’re up to it?”

  
  


“Yes,” I nodded, “Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked, brushing a hand through my hair, “Do you think Rob would let us do some laundry?”

  
  


Mike looked at me as if I’d just asked him to suck my dick.

  
  


“Okay,” I frowned, hand pulling the door open, “I’ll go see. And I’ll try and leave you some hot water but I’m not making any promises, okay?” I smiled.

  
  


Rob’s power shower burnt my skin. In fact it burnt everything away because whilst I stood under scalding hot water and washed my hair four times then scrubbed at my dirty skin, I could not think about anything else except how much the heat was hurting me. And that was kind of the idea really.

  
  


And it worked a fucking treat.

  
  


My skin, however, was red when I stepped out into a steam filled room and blindly hunted for one of Rob’s huge specialty bath towels which he kept in the cupboard. I wrapped it around me and balled my dirty clothes into my arms.

  
  


Rob and Joe were in the kitchen cutting burger buns when I walked in. Joe’s face fell sad and Rob stopped and put down his knife like my presence needed such attention.

  
  


“So Rob, I was thinking I will do all the washing up whilst I’m here just as long as you please, please, please let me do some laundry because my clothes fucking stink,” I pulled a face to accentuate this as I crouched in front of the washing machine door and began to shove my clothes inside, “Seriously, it’s like eau de Jack Daniels and cheap cigarettes or something!”

  
  


I got up and shut the door.

  
  


“Erm, sure,” Rob shrugged, “Go ahead. Are you, you wanna sit down?”

  
  


“Not really,” I smiled, “I thought I’d go and get some beer.”

  
  


Rob and Joe both shared a concerned look.

  
  


“I have some money,” I smiled, “Before you think I’m going to ask you for some. So, what, that convenience store still open around the block Rob?”

  
  


“Chester, Joe will go.”

  
  


“No it’s cool,” I sighed, “I could do with some fresh air.”

  
  


“Chester you’re wearing a towel.”

  
  


I looked down and stared at my body. Yes. I was wearing a towel.

  
  


“Oh, yeah,” I smiled sheepishly.

  
  


“Why don’t I go get the beer and you go and sit outside?” Joe nodded, getting down from his stool.

  
  


“Erm, yeah okay, like I said, I need some fresh air. I’ll just be out here then,” I nodded, turning to the door behind me.

  
  


“Chester that’s the pantry.”

  
  


I turned back and strode through the kitchen to the patio doors which led out into the yard. Not surprisingly Phoenix was sitting out there smoking and looking painfully into a glass of coke. I sat down on the bench beside him with a loud sigh.

  
  


“Oh hey,” He smiled hesitantly, “How are you doing?”

  
  


“Fine,” I smiled, “You? It’s a nice day isn’t it?” I asked him.

  
  


“Yeah,” His brow furrowed, “Chester look, I’m really sorry for what happened to Jack.”

  
  


“It’s cool,” I gulped, “Can I have a cigarette? I haven’t got any with me.”

  
  


Phoenix stared back at me. His expression like Mike’s before. You know, like I’d asked him to go down on me.

  
  


“Yeah,” He nodded, pulling one out of the beat-up carton that was resting in his lap.

  
  


I gazed over the yard, absently watching a cat as it prowled along the top of a fence in the distance. Phoenix passed me a lit cigarette and I couldn’t help but feel extremely relaxed when I put it between my lips and took a long hard drag of it.

  
  


“Kinda funny, isn’t it?”

  
  


“What is?” Phi asked.

  
  


“Well, we spent the whole of the summer together and I couldn’t wait to get the fuck away from you yet here we all are, a day after the tour ended. Together again.”

  
  


“Chester we wanted to be here for you. I mean, as soon as Rob called I came straight over.”

  
  


“That’s very decent of you,” I paused, “So where’s Brad?”

  
  


“He’s coming later.”

  
  


“Oh grand,” I laughed, sarcasm dripping off my words, “So who’s in charge of the barbeque?”

  
  


“Rob.”

  
  


“Good. I’m glad it’s not you. I mean no offence but your cooking is atrocious.”

  
  


Phi looked hurt. Well good, I wanted him to be hurt. Shame I couldn’t tell him what I really thought of him. Maybe later when I’d got some beer inside me. He wanted to be ‘there for me’? Well wasn’t it just a little bit late for all that shit?

  
  


I was on my forth cigarette when Mike came out, freshly shaven and wearing a pair of Rob’s jeans and an old T-shirt. He sat down next to me and took my cigarette from in between my lips.

  
  


“You smell better,” I told him as he pressed the cigarette against his mouth, “You never did tell me how you got that black eye.”

  
  


“Ouch,” Phi piped up from the other side of me, eyes scrutinizing Mike’s bruise, “Looks nasty.”

  
  


“I walked into the kitchen cupboard on the van last night,” Mike breezed out and I glared back at him, my eyes staring into his until he swallowed and looked away, suddenly very interested in his bare feet.

  
  


“God, we are all so good at bullshitting aren’t we?” I smiled at him.

  
  


“Don’t even go there,” He glared back at me.

  
  


“Where?” I asked, snatching my cigarette back.

  
  


“Fuck you,” Mike hissed.

  
  


“Woah,” Phoenix cut in, “Will you two stop bitching each other out? You never argue.”

  
  


“Who says we’re arguing? God and where’s Joe with the fucking beer?”

  
  


“I’ll go see,” Phoenix sighed and really, I just think he was begging for an excuse to get away from me.

  
  


“So,” I paused as Phi shut the patio door, “What did he do to you?”

  
  


“Nothing.”

  
  


“You’re a terrible liar.”

  
  


“And so are you. Acting like you’re not bothered by what’s happened today? Half an hour ago you didn’t want to leave my side, now you’re talking to me like I’m Brad.”

  
  


“I’m not acting like that.”

  
  


“Yes you are. And God, you have every right to, okay? And you have every right to be angry with me for getting you mixed up in drugs in the first place but that’s no excuse to behave like this.”

  
  


“So what? You want me to cry and cling onto you for…”

  
  


I stopped as the patio doors opened. I never did get any beer that night because there were two Police Officers standing there with a frazzled looking Rob. I didn’t mean to start laughing when they told me they were arresting me for possession of cocaine and amphetamines, it’s just that Rob’s face was such a picture; red cheeks, furrowed brow and spatula in one hand, all set against the backdrop of his flowery apron.

  
  


Priceless.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


_Jail sentence. Manslaughter. Community service. Impending court dates. Diabolical behaviour._

  
  


I scraped my nails down the insides of the upholstery of Phi’s car and stared blankly at the headrest in front of me. It was three thirty am and Phi was putting his foot down as we drove through town. Buildings and shadows and weird people who were up this early whizzed past me in a haze of deep blue and neon yellows.

  
  


Mike was rolling a joint beside me, brow furrowed in concentration. I wondered what the chances of us getting pulled over were. It would give some rookie sheriff a field day. Gay guy fresh out of the cop shop; previously convicted guy possessing high quantities of marijuana and highly respected doctor’s son driving way too fast and giving a big middle finger to the speed limits.

  
  


I didn’t care though.

  
  


So my parents had turned me in. I was too numb to feel angry. Apparently social services have to intervene when a child dies. So obviously my parents pointed out that Jack had found the drugs in my bag. So it was ripped apart and hunted through and they found the syringes and the pills and they arrested me for possession. I’d somehow managed to block out everything they’d said to me though I knew, as I sat and gnawed at my fingernails, it would all come spilling out soon enough.

  
  


Phoenix shut the engine off and I realised we were back at Rob’s. I felt faint as I undid my seatbelt and got out of the car, shutting the door behind me with a half-hearted shove.

  
  


My feet took a few moments to connect with my brain and actually move, but by the time Mike and Phoenix were unlocking the front door I was walking across to them. My stomach rumbled as we stepped inside and were greeted by a darkened hallway and the faded scent of sausages.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


A light was flicked on and I screwed my eyes up as Rob walked out of his bedroom, hair disheveled and eyes tired.

  
  


“How’d it go Chester?” He asked.

  
  


I shrugged, “Is there any food left?”

  
  


“Er, yeah, sure,” Rob smiled, “I left everything out in the kitchen for you. Help yourselves.”

  
  


I pushed past Mike and Phoenix, pretty much under the impression they wanted to share with Rob in hushed tones what  _had_  happened. I flicked the kitchen light on and let the door slide shut behind me. Rob was right, he had left everything out. I grabbed a plate from the draining board and sat down at the table where plates of sausages and burgers plus a basket of bread greeted me. I grabbed handfuls of food and slapped them on my plate then I started to eat because eating was better than sitting in silence and thinking.

  
  


Five sausages, a few forkfuls of salad and one burger later, Mike came into the kitchen and slumped into the seat beside me. I grabbed some bread and started to shove it in my mouth as he fiddled with his hands.

  
  


“You can go to bed y’know,” I told him, “I don’t need you to stay up…”

  
  


“Will you stop bitching at me?” Mike glared, “I’m not tired.”

  
  


“Well you look like you’ve not slept in weeks,” I pointed out.

  
  


“Yeah well I haven’t.”

  
  


“Oh yeah,” I nodded, grabbing some nachos, “That’s because you’re too scared because someone tried to push you off a balcony and kill you,” I spat out, ignoring the hurt look in Mike’s eyes as I shoved the nachos in my mouth, “Dude, grow a backbone and hit the fucker back next time. Maybe you’ll be able to sleep without waking everyone up with your panic attacks.”

  
  


He didn’t answer, just put his hands on the table and pushed his chair back.

  
  


“Where are you going?” I asked as he walked over to the door.

  
  


“Out.”

  
  


I didn’t see him again for a whole week. Probably the second most painful period of my entire life.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


I woke up the next morning in a pool of my own vomit. Apparently, eating enough to feed five thousand then washing it down with a mixture of vodka and coke was not a good thing for the digestive system. There was sun shining through the window beside me, mocking me as I groaned and struggled to get back to sleep. Then there was a cool hand on my arm and Rob asking me to wake up.

  
  


So I opened my eyes again and I wasn’t actually even inside. No, I was on Rob’s patio and he was holding a bucket of steaming water which stank of bleach.

  
  


“What happened?” I groaned as someone else wrapped their arms around my upper body and forced me to sit against the wall.

  
  


“You had some kind of fit,” Joe, whose arms had linked around my body, crouched down beside me and shoved his hand around my chin, “Look at me,” He spoke sternly.

  
  


“A fit?”

  
  


“Probably because of the amount of alcohol you drank. You know I’ve a good mind to send you packing to the hospital to have your stomach pumped.”

  
  


I winced at the thought as Joe let me go and stood up. There was a distinct look of disappointment in his eyes and I looked away catching sight of Rob clearing up my mess, which was more than enough to put me off drink for life. Or the next twenty four hours.

  
  


“What time is it?”

  
  


“Four.”

  
  


“Oh God. Where’s Mike?” I asked, my heart sinking, “I was a total bitch to him last night.”

  
  


“I have no idea,” Rob sighed, “He was in tears when he stormed out. Haven’t seen him since.”

  
  


My heart raced. Where did he have to go? He was as homeless as I was right now. And then I remembered my promises of taking him to see his mom and I relaxed a little. Maybe he’d gone there. I could only hope. Even in my hung-over state, my mind was conjuring up images of him at his dealer’s house or even worse…

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


“What?” I glared at Rob.

  
  


“I think you should take a shower. Then get some coffee inside you because it might sober you up.”

  
  


“I don’t need sobering up, thank you,” I snarled, “I’m gonna go for a walk,” I told them as I got to my feet, trying to discreetly steady myself as I struggled not to shake.

  
  


“Look I know you’ve been to hell and back in the past day but you really should just stay here Chester and get some rest. You’re in shock, okay?”

  
  


“No,” I laughed, “Rob I am not in shock. I am going for a walk, okay? Do you know where I put my wallet yesterday? I thought I put it in one of the pockets of your jeans,” I sighed, patting down the borrowed pants that Rob had given me before I was driven away in a police car the night before.

  
  


“I’ve got it,” Rob told me, “And you’re not having it back until you’ve sobered up.”

  
  


“What?!”

  
  


“You heard,” Rob shot me a glare before storming back into his house, leaving me to stare at the wet patch of soapy water on the floor.

  
  


I slumped back down again just as Joe tutted and followed in Rob’s footsteps. The door slammed behind them and I wouldn’t have blamed them if they’d locked it as well. In fact, I half hoped they had. I stared out across Rob’s yard and shivered because the shirt Rob had left me was thin and worn and even wrapping my arms around me didn’t make me feel any warmer.

  
  


I started to pick at the scabs on my arms. I don’t know why. It was something to do. Something to distract me from everything. I didn’t mean to make them bleed but pretty soon red lines were sliding against my skin in all directions and I was getting a strange sense of calm from it. My head buzzed as the warm sensation of my blood trickling free kicked in.

  
  


Then I heard the door open and shoved my arms behind my back. Phoenix appeared, looking not too impressed with me.

  
  


“Mike’s at my place,” He told me as he sat down next to me and lit up a cigarette, “Just in case you were bothered. I don’t know what you said to him but he was really cut up about it,” He paused to blow smoke in my face, “You’re welcome to come back with me later.”

  
  


“No thanks.”

  
  


He tilted his head to the side, “What happened?”

  
  


“When?”

  
  


“To make you hate us all so much all of a sudden.”

  
  


“I don’t hate anyone,” I gritted my teeth, “I strongly dislike you at the moment though.”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“Don’t give me that blank stare Phi. Have you forgotten?”

  
  


“No,” He looked sad for a moment, “You won’t let me.”

  
  


I looked away. I didn’t need his bullshit right now.

  
  


“Look, why don’t you come inside and get yourself cleaned up? We can sit down and talk about things, okay? I know this is difficult but you can’t keep everything bottled up.”

  
  


I stared at him blankly, amazed at how good my will power was when it came to not letting myself process any of his words.

  
  


“Can you lend me some money?”

  
  


“What?” Phoenix frowned, completely thrown by my question.

  
  


“Rob won’t give me my wallet back. I need some cigarettes.”

  
  


“Have these,” Phi smiled, sliding over the packet he’d just opened.

  
  


“I need some other things too.”

  
  


Phi shook his head, “Nope. No alcohol. I think we all overdid it lately with the drink and it’s probably best if we curb our drinking habits.”

  
  


“Jesus,” I glared at him, “What are you? My mom?”

  
  


Phi laughed. He laughed at me and I glared in return and made the mistake of crossing my arms over my chest.

  
  


Shit. I thought as soon as the action had been made. I went to move out of Phi’s way but it was too late, his face had paled and his cool hands were wrapping around my wrists; turning my arms to face him so he could see the damage I’d caused.

  
  


“Chester,” He sighed, “Chester what have you done?”

  
  


I could feel the tears again so I bit down on my tongue. I snatched my arms back and stumbled a little as I got to my feet. I could see his confusion, his despair as I stormed away from him, slamming inside through the patio doors. I ignored Rob and Joe as I walked through the kitchen, down the hallway and out through the front door, grabbing someone’s hoody from a coat hook in the process.

  
  


Running seemed to take my mind off the fact that I so selfishly wanted to break down in tears so I raced down the driveway, kicking up a mess in the fine gravel that lay beneath my feet. I somehow managed to pull on the jumper, my arms glad to be hidden from the prying eyes of the world and my legs carried me down the road, across the street and to the back of a derelict block of warehouses before I had to stop running.

  
  


I felt strangely cold as I leant against a wall and caught my breath. I really needed a cigarette. Or a drink. Or something to stop the whirlwind of emotions that was dying to be unleashed within my mind. I wasn’t going to let it happen though. If I could just get a drink then I wouldn’t have to think. Or if I could maybe get my hands on some sleeping pills to knock me out then I certainly wouldn’t have any of this nonsense battling to be confronted.

  
  


So I brushed my hands down my legs and straightened up. I could see the liquor store in the distance; its neon sign drawing me closer as I began to walk toward it, undeterred by my obvious lack of money. Mike had made it seem like a walk in the park. Surely it wouldn’t be that hard.

  
  


A boarded up window and a door full of hand written signs and faded posters greeted me as I walked up to the store. The door slid open and I stepped inside, tinny music filling my ears. There was a girl with bubblegum pink hair sitting behind the counter reading a book. She either ignored me or didn’t note my presence as I walked down one of the aisles, stopping at the very end where bottles of cheap Whiskey and other spirits stood, practically calling out to me. I gazed at them, glancing back to the counter where a couple of children now stood buying packets of potato chips and cheap cola. Craning my neck a little, I could see the more expensive brands of alcohol were stacked neatly behind the counter. They were hardly going to miss any of this crap then, were they?

  
  


I took a breath then casual as anything slid my hand around the neck of one of the larger bottles of Vodka. It slid nicely up the baggy sleeve of my hoody and I turned away, walking down the back of the shop and directly out of the door, my heart pounding as I slipped unnoticed as the girl packed the kids’ shopping for them. My pace suddenly quickened and I seemed to hold my breath all the way to the end of the road, thinking that any second now some big, scary dude was going to place a firm, bone crunching hand on my shoulder.

  
  


But I got away with it.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


It was around midnight when I stumbled into Rob’s apartment.

  
  


“Where have you been?” Rob snapped as I slammed the door shut behind me.

  
  


I blinked and tried to focus on him. Who knew cheap Vodka could get you this fucked up?

  
  


“Chester? Oh fuck, are you drunk?”

  
  


I straightened up and hiccupped, somehow managed to shake my head. Rob stepped closer, his hands grabbing my arms just as my legs buckled in an untimely manner.

  
  


“Jesus,” He spat, “You’re absolutely trashed.”

  
  


I think I grinned at him. Think being the operative word here because two seconds later I collapsed to the floor, smile no doubt wiped off my face as a soaring pain ripped through my stomach. I suddenly felt very dizzy and my eyes slid shut as I tried to grasp on to Rob and make sense of the words I was vaguely aware of him speaking.

  
  


“Mmmph,” I heard myself groaning as my eyes fluttered open and were met with Rob’s face.

  
  


“Come on,” He sighed, “Come and lie down.”

  
  


I felt him lifting me to my feet and wrapped my hands tighter around him as he looped an arm over my shoulder and guided me into his room. My head spun and I was thankful to be placed down on his bed, groaning in pleasure as my back connected with the soft surface. Now maybe I could sleep and maybe I could wake up somewhere else.

  
  


“No Chester,” Rob shook me roughly, “Chester open your eyes.”

  
  


I blinked and did as I was told.

  
  


“What?” I frowned.

  
  


“What have you taken?”

  
  


“Eh?”

  
  


“You heard me. Chester this is important.”

  
  


“I didn’t take anything. Just Vodka…”

  
  


“How much?”

  
  


“A bottle.”

  
  


“Jesus.”

  
  


“I know,” I sighed, “I know.”

  
  


“Okay,” He nodded, “I’m going to go and make you some strong coffee.”

  
  


“No,” I whined, “Let me sleep.”

  
  


“Water then,” Rob shook me again just as my eyes started to close, “You need to drink something.”

  
  


I smiled lazily, “Rob, I’ve been drinking all afternoon man. I am so buzzed!”

  
  


“I’m glad,” He glared at me, “Because Phi and I have been going out of our fucking minds. Joe spent about four hours driving around searching for you.”

  
  


“Why? I’m not a,” I paused as my vision began to distort, “A child…”

  
  


“Yeah well you’re acting like one.”

  
  


“Oh shut up,” I groaned, rolling onto my stomach.

  
  


“Chester,” Rob sighed and I felt the bed dip as he sat down beside me, “Come on man,” He sighed, “Cut me some slack. Just turn over and talk to me.”

  
  


“I don’t want to talk.”

  
  


“Well you’re going to have to.”

  
  


“No.”

  
  


“Chester what happened at the Police Station?”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“Chester? Look I’m not prying but I think it might help you to talk things through. All I know is that Phoenix bailed you out and…”

  
  


“I. Don’t. Want. To. Talk,” I hissed, “Please go?”

  
  


“This is my place you’re staying in. I hope you remember that when you’ve sobered up tomorrow,” Rob snapped, getting up from the bed.

  
  


“I don’t plan on being sober,” I yelled once he’d slammed the door.

  
  


I kept to my word as well. For the next five days I remained blind drunk, leaving Rob’s bedroom only to buy more alcohol or to use the bathroom. I had lost the will to give a fuck anymore.


	16. but the taste still lingers in my mouth

It wasn’t just the blinding sun that woke me up on day six of my getting out of bed at noon and stumbling to a random liquor store routine. No, it was the sound of Rob Bourdon playing his drums really fucking loudly mixed in with MTV bass blaring from the TV set and the sound of Joe and Phoenix laughing at an atrociously high volume.

  
  


I groaned, grabbed the pillow I’d been sleeping on and rammed it over my throbbing head. Then came the sound of a guitar. My heart flipped for a second, but as the chords became heavier and even more out of tune I realised it was neither Mike nor Brad but most probably Joseph Hahn. I clutched the pillow tighter, clenched my fists around the soft material and mentally counted to ten. I was almost on five when the Vodka-based bile started to rise from my stomach and had hit eight by the time I threw the pillow across the floor, got to my feet without even opening my eyes, stumbled blindly out of Rob’s bedroom and tripped down the hallway.

  
  


I reached ten just as I threw up inside the toilet in Rob’s freshly refurbished bathroom. My legs buckled and my knees smashed against the tiled floor.

  
  


This, I thought to myself as I stopped heaving and pulled the chain, was nothing new. This was how my life had gone for the past six days. I opened my eyes, wiped my mouth with the back of my hand and got to my feet. Splashing cold water up into my face woke me up and I ignored my gauzy reflection in the mirror, instead turning to the door and stepping back into the hallway.

  
  


I found Rob, Phi and Joe in the lounge. Joe was setting the guitar down, Phi was lying on the couch and Rob was still thrashing his cymbals. I lingered in the doorway for a moment, head leaning against the cool woodwork. I’d somehow forgotten that we were in fact part of a fucking band. Music had been the furthest from my thoughts, however, and I drummed my fingers against the door, watching three heads turn towards me.

  
  


“Hey,” Phoenix nodded, as Rob steadied a cymbal between his thumb and forefinger, “Come in. Wanna join us for a jam?”

  
  


I bit my lip, “No. I just wondered if anyone knows where I put my cigarettes. I can’t remember.”

  
  


Joe waved a bashed carton of Marlboros at me and threw them in my direction. Technically they weren’t mine. I’d lifted them from a convenience store the evening before. Still, I took one out of the packet along with my lighter and was soon inhaling the nicotine I’d been so badly craving.

  
  


“You sure you don’t feel up to jamming?” Rob asked from behind his drum kit.

  
  


I shook my head, “I’m gonna go back to sleep,” I shrugged just as the phone began to ring.

  
  


I turned away and trudged back down to Rob’s bedroom, pushing the door shut behind me. Finishing off my cigarette I lay down on the bed, pulling the sheets around me. I’d just slept thirteen hours straight yet I felt so fucking tired; so drained. I also felt empty, void of any care in the world. At least the previous few days I’d gotten dressed and gone out. Albeit to walk around aimlessly, often coincidently finding myself with an aching heart at some place or other Mike and I often hung out. Today, however, I just wanted to pull the sheets over me and drift away.

  
  


I lit another cigarette though. I watched clouds of grey smoke spiral up and disappear as they hit the ceiling. I wondered where Mike was. I’d made it up in my mind that he was with his mom, that she’d sobered up again and they were sitting around watching Cartoon Network and smoking a joint, the way they often did when his mom was lucid. He probably hadn’t called because he was trying to make up for the lost time, the way he always felt he had to with his mom.

  
  


It had absolutely nothing to do with the fact I’d been a total bastard toward him.

  
  


That sparked the tears.

  
  


I cursed at myself and stubbed out my cigarette in the overflowing ashtray, swatting at the tears that were trickling out from my eyes. I wanted to go back to the day it all fucking happened and let him hold me and just talk shit to me like he had been doing. Why did I have to go and fuck everything up?

  
  


Oh yeah, I thought as I reached under Rob’s bed for the bottle of Scotch I’d secreted there a couple of days ago, that; fucking things up was my life’s ambition. If fucking up were, say a college course then I’d score honours.

  
  


I winced as I swallowed the Scotch. I didn’t even like the fucking stuff but it’s what my hand had blindly wrapped around as I’d tried not to get clocked by the towering black guy who had been behind the counter at the mini-market. It served its purpose though, numbing my throat and warming my aching heart.

  
  


I capped the bottle and rolled it under the bed, turned my eyes up to the ceiling once again and closed my eyes.

  
  


“Is he okay?”

  
  


“… No… Man he’s cut up about Chester.”

  
  


I cracked open an eye. I’d barely fallen asleep yet Phi and Rob’s voices right outside the door had stirred me back into consciousness.

  
  


“What did he say?” Phi asked.

  
  


“He was apologizing, mostly. Saying how sorry he was for upping and leaving, that he just felt like he’d caused everything and,” Rob paused, “He’s missing Chester like crazy - and he even asked if it was okay if he came over.”

  
  


“What?!”

  
  


“Yeah, I found it weird too. I was like ‘dude, you don’t need to ask, if anything you’re gonna make things better’ right?”

  
  


“Definitely. He’s the only one who can get through to him… So wait, why does he think he’d make things worse?”

  
  


“He’s got it into his head that he got Chester into drugs and…”

  
  


“God, Chester’s been doing drugs since he was a kid.”

  
  


“Exactly. And Mike knows that, he’s just, he’s scared or something. I don’t know…”

  
  


“So is he coming over?”

  
  


“Yeah, he is.”

  
  


I sat up, rubbing my eyes as the voices disappeared. So, I’d successfully managed to make my best friend think he was to blame for all my fuck ups. Way to fucking go Chester. Mike, I thought to myself as I reached around for the Scotch, was not to blame. I didn’t deserve him and he certainly didn’t deserve to be hurting because of my vicious words. I uncapped the bottle and downed the remaining two-thirds of it, pausing to inhale air only twice. Needless to say, the bottle crashed to the floor and rolled away, hitting the skirting board with an unnecessarily loud thump.

  
  


Then I fell asleep, curled up in the middle of Rob’s bed with pillows and bed sheets pulled on top of me. A huge part of me wanted to suffocate, yet I slept with my head close to the edge of the bed, keeping my ear close to any sounds of the doorbell ringing.

  
  


I so desperately wanted to see him again.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


When I woke up again it was dark and the bedside clock propped on a pile of books read ten thirty. I scowled and rubbed my eyes before stretching out and knocking the majority of the pillows onto the floor. I got to my feet, staggering toward the empty bottle and grabbing it by the neck. I tipped it back, pressing the opening against my lips and allowing the last few drops to trickle down my throat. Then I heard the door opening and voices in the hallway.

  
  


“Mike!”

  
  


“Hey Rob. I’m sorry it’s late…”

  
  


“Hey, it’s fine, come on in.”

  
  


“Thanks. Where is he?”

  
  


“In my room.”

  
  


“How’s he been?”

  
  


I edged toward the door, pressing my ear against it.

  
  


“He’s not good. He’s not stopped drinking, he’s disappeared most days to God-Only-Knows where. I feel like he’s slipping away and we’ve tried so hard but he…”

  
  


“Just gets angry and pushes you away?”

  
  


Rob chuckled, “Yup.”

  
  


“I shouldn’t have gone like that, I’m sorry…”

  
  


“Don’t apologise Mike. Where’d you go anyway?”

  
  


“Phi’s for a while…”

  
  


“Yeah he said you’d disappeared after a day though?”

  
  


“I ended up at Brad’s.”

  
  


My heart inexplicably sank.

  
  


“Brad’s? He didn’t mention that when I rang him,” Rob sighed.

  
  


“No, I asked him not to. I just needed a bit of time to think…”

  
  


To escape from me, I thought sadly.

  
  


“Anyway, I’ll go and see how he is.”

  
  


I edged back from the door, scrambled back into the centre of Rob’s bed and snatched the covers over me. My heart was racing and I prayed no one could hear the noise it felt like it was making. I squeezed my eyes shut just as a shaft of light shone into my room, disappearing as fast as it appeared. I heard soft footsteps and felt the bed dip. The rustling of clothes followed, then the sound of shoes dropping to the floor. When I dared let out a breath, hands were lifting up the sheets and a warm body was sliding down beside me. I willed myself not to cry as arms encircled my entire being but I couldn’t stop the shakes and tears as Mike pulled me against him.

  
  


“I’m so fucking sorry,” I sobbed out, suddenly clinging onto him for dear life, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  
  


“Sssh…”

  
  


He was crying too. Mike was crying. I didn’t even need to open my eyes to know. I could feel his sobs; his salty tears against my cheek. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and for a moment I didn’t want to let go.

  
  


It was Mike however that broke away, his hands wiping away my tears as I opened my eyes and blinked back at him. His own eyes were red, circled with heavy bags and sadness. I sniffed and sat up, crossing my legs and facing the door. His hand rubbed circles against my back.

  
  


“I don’t deserve you,” I cleared my throat, “Any of you.”

  
  


Mike sat up beside me, “I’m sorry for leaving.”

  
  


“No,” I whispered, “That, I deserved.”

  
  


He shook his head, “You’re always there for me. I should never have left you. Rob says you haven‘t stopped drinking…”

  
  


“I’ve fucked up Mike,” I whispered, “And I don’t know what to do.”

  
  


Mike squeezed my shoulder, “It’ll be okay.”

  
  


“It won’t though,” I whispered back, shrugging his hand away, “My brother’s dead,” I swallowed, realising this was the first time I’d properly acknowledged this fact, “He’s dead Mike,” I got to my feet and turned to face him, “He’s not coming back. I killed him!” I screamed out, arms flailing in the air.

  
  


“Hey, hey,” Mike was up on his feet, striding over to me, “It’s okay,” He soothed, reaching out for my arms, “It’s okay.”

  
  


“No,” I sniffed, “It’s not okay, Mike. I fucked everything up. I fucked it ALL UP.”

  
  


“Sssh,” Mike was enveloping me in his arms but I pushed him away.

  
  


“Don’t,” I whispered, my voice shaking, “Don’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve sympathy. I killed him. He was barely a kid, Mike, and he’s had everything snatched away. It should be me, not him.”

  
  


“Don’t say that,” Mike hissed, making a grab for my hands, “Don’t you fucking say things like that,” His eyes were watering as he grabbed me by the shoulders.

  
  


“I’m not allowed to cry,” I bit my lip, staring right into his eyes, “Don’t you fucking make me cry,” I wailed pathetically, my voice cracking.

  
  


“You’ve every right to cry…”

  
  


“NO!” I shouted, pushing him back, “I can’t cry. I can’t feel this way…”

  
  


“So what? You drink instead.”

  
  


I lowered my gaze to the ground, “You’d know,” I whispered.

  
  


“Yes,” Mike stepped forward, tilting my head when his fingers pressed under my chin, “I do and I wouldn’t wish that on anyone, least of all you Chester. Don’t do this,” He paused, “Let yourself fucking cry, you idiot.”

  
  


“No,” I shook my head, backing toward the door, “I don’t want to.”

  
  


I shoved the door open and stumbled out into the hallway. Phoenix was standing there, biting his lip and staring at me intently. I blushed and looked away, eyes meeting with Rob who was standing nervously in the kitchen doorway.

  
  


“I don’t want them to see me like this,” I suddenly choked out, my tears spilling down my cheeks as I gazed at Mike, “I can’t do this,” I whispered hoarsely, shoving past Phi who called out my name as I stumbled down toward the door.

  
  


“No Chaz,” Mike called, his hands clamping around my waist, “You’re not going anywhere,” He told me as my hands grappled with the doorknob, “Come on,” He whispered as I struggled relentlessly against him, “Come on…”

  
  


“I don’t want them to see me like this,” I wailed, “I don’t want them to…”

  
  


That’s when I dropped to the floor and broke down in hysterics, my hands digging into the cheap carpet; arms grazing themselves against the coarse material. I felt arms against me, several people tugging me to my feet but I pushed them away and stormed down the hallway, opening a door and slipping behind it, slamming it shut and crying out in sync.

  
  


I was in a fucking closet.

  
  


Concerned voices filtered through as I tried to breathe properly, tried to make sense of what just happened. Then, as the voices finally faded I wiped away my tears with shaking hands, gulping as the door handle was pushed down then I turned away.

  
  


I felt Mike’s hands on my shoulders not long after the door clicked softly shut. I felt his stomach against my back and his lips pressing against my neck. His hands slid around my waist and he wrapped one around my fist, gently rubbing his fingers against it.

  
  


“Did he hurt you?” I whispered.

  
  


“Chester…”

  
  


I turned in Mike’s arms so I was facing him and ran my hands down his sides, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt hem.

  
  


“Because I can only imagine you staying with Brad because he refused to let you go,” I whispered, “See, I’ve been thinking about that a lot the past few days. I didn’t want to think about all of my shit, so I thought about you instead and when I heard you’d been staying at Brad’s…”

  
  


And it was true. I had been thinking about a lot of things. Like the incident with the balcony and how I’d honestly thought Brad had killed my best friend; how angry and upset I’d been and how I’d wanted nothing more than for Brad to give up and leave the band at that point. Only all had been forgiven and I didn’t get why. Was anyone ever going to forgive me for the things I’d done? I didn’t think so.

  
  


“I didn’t have anywhere else to go,” Mike sighed.

  
  


“I don’t get it. Why would you go to him?”

  
  


“I didn’t. I went to see his mom. Sometimes I go back and see her. He was there,” Mike paused, “He talked me into going back to his place.”

  
  


“Is it more than friendship?”

  
  


Mike blinked back at me, visibly gulping.

  
  


“Like I said… I’ve had a lot of thinking to do, Mike. I’m not stupid. I may not notice every fucking detail, most likely because I have my head stuck up my own ass, in my own drama, but… I never stop worrying about you, Mike…”

  
  


Mike frowned, “Chester where has this come from?”

  
  


“You’ve come here to help me, right? To get me to open up…”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“Then I’m only asking the same of you. I miss knowing you inside out. I hate the missing pieces of you that I don’t have.”

  
  


Mike’s frown deepened.

  
  


“And I hate that no matter what, Brad will always have some weird special place no matter how much he fucking hurts you.”

  
  


“It’s complicated,” Mike breathed out.

  
  


I smiled wryly, “Isn’t everything?”

  
  


“If he hurt me, what would you do?”

  
  


I thought to myself,  _I’d kill him_  but instead I shrugged.

  
  


“Say you’ve got a friend,” Mike continued, “A friend who you know is a good person deep down. Would you give up on them?”

  
  


I frowned, “It depends.”

  
  


“On?”

  
  


“Whether or not they use me as a punch bag.”

  
  


Mike coiled away, “It’s not like that.”

  
  


“Then?”

  
  


He sighed, ran a hand through his hair, “We’re supposed to be talking about Jack.”

  
  


“I don’t want to talk…”

  
  


“Chester we can talk about Brad some other time,” He gazed at me, “But right now it’s about you and what happened to your brother. What did the police say? Because you never did tell me.”

  
  


I sighed in defeat, hoisting myself up onto a pile of boxes behind me. Mike stepped forward and stood beside me, his eyes watching me in the dusky light.

  
  


“That night I was questioned, they just talked through what had happened. Asked me where the drugs came from, were they for my own use or were they for dealing. And I told them they were mine,” I shrugged, “They’re charging me with possession. I have to go to a court hearing next week. The lawyer that Phoenix got me is supposed to be in touch. I don’t know, maybe she already called,” I shrugged, “I can’t remember what’s happened these past few days. Anyway,” I cleared my throat, “She says if I plead guilty then they should be pretty lenient. As for Jack, they’re waiting for the coroner’s report before they can carry on questioning me. I’m looking at manslaughter, Mike,” I gulped, “For killing my own…”

  
  


“Ssh,” Mike soothed, squeezing my hand, “Chester it won’t come to that.”

  
  


“No?” I asked doubtfully.

  
  


Mike didn’t answer. I leant my head against his chest and sighed. This isn’t how I’d pictured my twenty-two-year-old self when I was younger. No, I’d always imagined by now I’d be settling down with someone, securing a job and living a nice, peaceful life. How naïve a child I had been.

  
  


“Look, the others are so worried about you,” Mike told me, “How about we go out and talk to them. They just want to help.”

  
  


I nodded, surprising not only Mike but myself as well. Brushing away the tear tracks that had trailed down my cheeks, I straightened up and got to my feet. I wanted nothing more than to run away from everything and everyone but then I realised that’s what I’d spent the past days doing, and was I feeling any better for it? No.

  
  


Mike led me out into Rob’s lounge and the four of us sat on the two couches. I stared at the floor until Mike cleared his throat, hinting presumably that I should start talking.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” I sighed, slowly glancing up and Phoenix and Rob.

  
  


“Man, it’s okay,” Rob smiled softly, “We understand.”

  
  


I bit my tongue. How could they understand? I didn’t see either of them having killed a relative.

  
  


“I mean,” Rob continued, “We understand the best we can. You’re upset and angry and you don’t want to be,” He shrugged, “But pushing us away and hiding from everything isn’t going to work.”

  
  


“I know,” I nodded, “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. You’ve let me stay here and you, Phi,” I paused, forcing myself to look at him, “You bailed me out of jail and got me a lawyer and I never even thanked you…”

  
  


“It’s…”

  
  


I closed my eyes. I could feel the tears again. Why? Why the fuck could I not be a fucking man about things, ever? I took a deep breath, opening my eyes just as Phi moved and sat down beside me. His arm around me and the way he rested his chin on top of my head and the way he smelled, it all felt like something I’d been missing and craving so badly. Yet I’d pushed that away as well.

  
  


“I have something important to tell you anyway,” He smiled as I looked up to him.

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“Yes, I tried to tell you before but you wouldn’t wake up.”

  
  


“Oh,” I smiled bashfully.

  
  


“Anyway,” He paused, “Shannon Wright called. Your lawyer?”

  
  


“Oh right,” I nodded.

  
  


“The coroner’s report came back this morning.”

  
  


My heart dropped.

  
  


“They only found traces of cocaine in Jack’s blood system, a tiny amount which wouldn’t have been enough to do any lasting harm.”

  
  


“But,” I frowned, “He’s…”

  
  


“He died from heart failure.”

  
  


“Well that normally happens,” I pointed out.

  
  


Phi rolled his eyes, “He had a weak heart, Chester, they actually found a hole in it during the post mortem. Jack had a bad reaction to the cocaine but he was fine once his stomach had been pumped. He did, however, have an allergic reaction to the sedative they gave him.”

  
  


“They gave him a sedative? He’s, he’s just a kid you…”

  
  


“He was very scared.”

  
  


I gulped and felt myself paling.

  
  


“And in shock. His heart couldn’t take the strain, Chester. He had a seizure and they couldn‘t get him back…”

  
  


“He was scared?” I whispered, “He’s only a child,” I heard myself saying, “He shouldn’t have gone through that…”

  
  


“It wasn’t your fault, Chester…”

  
  


“But I…”

  
  


“No,” Phoenix cut in, “It wasn’t your fault.”

  
  


“So what? He died from an adverse reaction to a sedative?”

  
  


“It triggered it, yes.”

  
  


“I… I don’t get it,” I whispered, “So the cocaine he took had nothing to do with his death at all?”

  
  


“No,” Phoenix whispered, “He had been stabilised. When he came round he was frightened so the doctors gave him a mild sedative to calm him.”

  
  


“And… And it killed him?”

  
  


“In a roundabout way. Yes. There were unknown complications with his heart, which were made worse…”

  
  


“I put him there though, Phi,” I sighed, getting to my feet, “I can’t change that.”

  
  


I walked out of the room, down the hallway and into the kitchen. There was a crate of beer standing on Rob’s kitchen worktop and I stared at it as I sat down, willing myself to stay away from it. Phoenix followed me and pulled a chair up next to me, sitting down with a thud.

  
  


“No one sees it like that,” He sighed, “Shannon’s coming over tomorrow to talk things through. You’ve got to go to court next week. They’re charging you with possession. At worst you’ll have to do community service, or they may even suspend your sentence.”

  
  


“Great,” I smiled, “Everyone can officially be proud of me.”

  
  


“Chester…”

  
  


“What?” I spat, “What do you want me to say, huh? I’ve fucked up, I’m always fucking up; I can’t stop fucking up! Story of my fucking life.”

  
  


“Chaz you’re not a fuck up,” Phoenix sighed, leaning closer, “No one thinks that.”

  
  


“Yeah? So why did Mike fuck off and leave me? Why can’t you wait to leave this band and get the fuck away from me?”

  
  


“I’m not leaving.”

  
  


“What…”

  
  


“You heard,” Phoenix smiled, “I’m not leaving the band.”

  
  


“But…”

  
  


“I want to stay. You guys are good friends,” He paused, “Some more than others. I think I’d be a fool to throw it away…”

  
  


“What about The Snax?”

  
  


“They’re holding auditions for a replacement. I only told them two days ago and they’ve more or less got a new bassist. They’re okay with it.”

  
  


“So you’re staying?”

  
  


“Yes!” Phi laughed, “If you think you can stand having me around.”

  
  


I rolled my eyes, “I think you know the answer to that…”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” Phi sighed, glancing down at his hands, “I know now’s probably not the right time but… Well, if it makes any difference…”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“I ended things with Sophie.”

  
  


I smiled. I didn’t mean to smile but it’s all I could do. I wrapped my arms around Phi’s shoulders and closed my eyes because honestly, that was the happiest I’d been all fucking week.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


Rob was in the doorway.

  
  


“Your mom’s on the phone.”

  
  


I frowned. Of course, I’d called her several times during my sober periods yet she’d either hung up or ignored my messages, including the last one I left asking when Jack’s funeral was going to be. Glancing back at Phoenix, I got to my feet and headed into the lounge where Mike was sitting and picked up the receiver.

  
  


“Hello?”

  
  


“Hi.”

  
  


I frowned, she sounded so far away, so distorted. I wasn’t sure if it was a bad reception or the lack of sleep.

  
  


She started to talk again but I couldn’t hear so I switched the phone to speaker, resting the receiver in my lap.

  
  


“…I got your messages. Are you still there?”

  
  


“Yeah, I’m here,” I nodded.

  
  


“The funeral,” She paused, “Is next Tuesday at midday. We’re having it at Saint Christopher’s church.”

  
  


I saw Rob out of the corner of my eye scrawling something down on the memo pad that sat next to the phone.

  
  


“I’ll see you then.”

  
  


“Okay I’m…” I stopped as a click echoed through the room and the line went dead.

  
  


I stupidly thought things were going to be okay after that, that the worst was over.

  
  


How?

  
  


I don’t know.


	17. deceit has a way of sticking around

It felt strange waking up next to Phoenix all over again. But on the morning of Jack’s funeral, that was exactly what happened; my aching body pressed against his, his arms wrapped around me and his soft eyes watching me as I blinked back at him.

  
  


I felt awful. I hadn’t had a drink for five days and the shock and restlessness of being sober was starting to catch up with me. I closed my eyes again and sunk into Phi’s arms. Did I want to face today? No. Did I want to feel like a coward for the rest of my life? No. So it was with a faint sense of determination that I finally opened my eyes again and sat up, stretching my arms above my head. I didn’t want to face my family; I didn’t want to face the accusing looks and questioning glances.

  
  


But worst of all, I didn’t want to say goodbye to my baby brother.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


A hand on my shoulder and a pair of lips brushing against my cheek. I turned to face Phi as he sat up beside me.

  
  


“Hi.”

  
  


“How are you feeling?”

  
  


I hated that question. I hated that no matter how good the intentions of the words may have been, it was a pointless thing to ask. A question which led to an obvious answer, yet an answer which was strangely so hard to choke out. So in reply I simply shrugged and let Phi wrap his arms around my shoulders and pull me against him.

  
  


“Why don’t we go get some breakfast? You look like you need some strong coffee.”

  
  


I smiled and nodded my head. Today was one of those days where I didn’t feel like I had the energy to speak sentences. I was beyond tired, had hardly slept and that wasn’t due to the fact I’d slept on Rob’s couch with Phoenix. I couldn’t help but think of how I needed something a whole lot stronger than coffee. And I knew damn well I wasn’t the only one starting to feel that way. Mike, for one, looked awful when we pulled ourselves up from the couch and found him with Rob and Joe in the kitchen. He looked like he’d lost even more weight, which puzzled me as I lingered in the doorway. Wasn’t being off the drugs supposed to make you look healthier? Then again, I thought bitterly, I felt ten times fucking worse, so who knew?

  
  


Someone pulled me into the kitchen and pushed me down into the chair next to Mike. A coffee was placed in front of me and I was vaguely aware of the sound of the radio followed by the scent of eggs cooking. I stared at the table and thought how lucky I was to have my friends with me and what an ungrateful bastard I truly was for wishing that not only they, but the rest of the fucking world would dissolve for a few moments so I could maybe have time to think about what I’d done to my family, to myself.

  
  


“There you go Chaz.”

  
  


I snapped out of my mind, glanced up as Joe set down a plate of food in front of me. I didn’t have the heart to tell him how I couldn’t stomach a thing and reluctantly picked my fork up, began pushing an egg around.

  
  


I just wanted to go back to bed.

  
  


“Chester? Chaz you okay?”

  
  


I’d spaced out again. I knew it. But the fact my food was now cold and everyone else was staring at me with wide eyes told me I’d totally blanked out for longer than I could count for.

  
  


“I’m okay,” I croaked, turning to Mike who’d brushed his hand against my arm after asking the question.

  
  


“I just need to,” I wiped the back of my hand across my mouth, “I…”

  
  


I choked on my words, pushed back the chair and scrambled out of the kitchen. I could hear worried shouts from behind me as I ran into the lounge and slammed the door behind me. The wall was my refuge as I leant against it, pressed my forehead to its cold surface and began to cry.

  
  


“Chester? Hey…”

  
  


I pushed myself further against the wall as Mike stepped into the room behind me. I didn’t want him to see me like this anymore. I’d spent the past few days swinging in and out of floods of tears. I didn’t have a reason to cry; I’d done this, so why couldn’t I just stop feeling sorry for myself?

  
  


“Chaz,” Mike whispered, resting his hand against the small of my back, “Come on,” He sighed, “It’s okay.”

  
  


“It’s not… I can’t do this… I can’t go…”

  
  


“You can,” Mike told me, “Chester?”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“Turn around,” Mike sighed.

  
  


I swatted away my tears and reluctantly turned to face Mike.

  
  


“Chaz,” He sighed, placing his hands on my shoulders, “You’ve gotta do this. Okay?”

  
  


“I know,” I sniffed.

  
  


“We’ll all be there with you. And then it’ll all be over.”

  
  


“But I don’t want it to be over Mike. I don’t want to think of Jack stuck in some hole in the ground. It’s like we’ll all leave him behind and he’ll be trapped there and it’s not fair Mike, he shouldn’t be left there…”

  
  


“Sssh,” Mike soothed, “Come here,” He pulled me into an embrace, “Just hang in there, Chester. I swear everything will be okay.”

  
  


“Promise me you’ll be there. I know it sounds so lame but I really need you right now.”

  
  


“I won’t leave your side.”

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


The five of us piled into Phi’s BMW, all dressed in black without a smile in sight. I’d always been a huge believer in celebrating people’s lives at funerals but had yet to attend one when my frame of mind let me think in that way. As Phi pulled out onto the road, I looked out of the window and thought of Josh. I wondered when or if there were ever going to be points in my life when I didn’t crave for him to be right beside me.

  
  


The hand, however, that squeezed mine made me realise how there was someone who was constantly there. I just didn’t want to face up to the thought that maybe someday he’d replace Josh. Replace wasn’t a word I ever wanted to associate with Josh. He was fucking irreplaceable. But I turned to Mike and smiled softly.

  
  


“You scrub up well,” I murmured, brushing my hand across the suit he’d hired.

  
  


“As do you,” He smiled.

  
  


Our words were soon lost and I turned back to the window, gazing out at the scenery that flew by my eyes. At least it was a sunny day. I thought that had to be a good thing. Though did it make a difference to my brother if it were raining or not? Did it matter if the sun was fucking shining when he wasn’t even going to see it or feel it or fucking breathe it anymore? I took a deep breath and felt a shaky sigh escape my lips, seconds later. That lump in my throat was getting bigger and it was taking everything and more for me to not cry.

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


I turned away from the window. Joe was staring through the window on his side and in the front Rob was occupying the passenger seat, flicking idly with his cell phone. I sighed and leant in closer.

  
  


“Are you okay? You’ve just slept for the past few days, I’ve hardly seen you. I just wondered if everything was alright?”

  
  


“I’m fine,” Mike nodded, “I was just a bit exhausted. No idea why.”

  
  


“What… what happened with Brad?”

  
  


“Nothing.”

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


“I can’t talk about it here,” He whispered, gazing past me and through the window, “Maybe later?”

  
  


“Did he hurt you?”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“Mike that’s all I need to know and…”

  
  


“I think this is the place,” Phi’s voice suddenly sounded and the car began to slow down, “Chester?”

  
  


I tore my gaze away from Mike and looked through the window. A small church surrounded by neatly kept lawns and a long winding driveway up to the door stared back at me. There was no one about which was just fucking great. They were all waiting inside, weren’t they? Probably about to look expectantly at their watches when I showed up, cast me looks of disapproval and berate me with narrowed eyes. I shivered and cleared my throat, trying to calm my shaking hands.

  
  


“Y…Yeah,” I nodded to no one in particular, “This is it.”

  
  


The car rocked as Rob, Joe and Phoenix climbed out. I could feel Mike watching me, feel his eyes slanting into their concerned position as I gazed out through the window up to the picturesque church. Phoenix stuck his head back in the car, said something about giving us a minute before he shut the door. I blinked as he started to walk toward the churchyard, adjusting his tie as he went.

  
  


“You okay?”

  
  


I turned away, sighed and glanced at Mike.

  
  


“I don’t think I can do this.”

  
  


“Hey, you can,” Mike nodded, his hand coming to rest against my knee, “It’ll be okay.”

  
  


“But what if everyone’s staring at me? Accusing me? I don’t know if I can face them.”

  
  


“You’ve done nothing wrong though Chester. You have to go in there with your head held high.”

  
  


“You’re right,” I let out a sigh, “Don’t stray too far from me?”

  
  


Mike smiled and squeezed my knee. He leaned over me and opened the door, knowing full well that had it been left to me we would have sat in the car forever more. The air outside felt chilly and I felt out of place as soon as we got out of the car, like I wasn’t really there, that this wasn’t really happening and that I wasn’t really feeling my legs buckling beneath my knees. Mike caught me before I hit the floor and steadied me, his hands clamping around my elbows as worried looks were shot my way.

  
  


“I’m fine, I’m fine,” I sighed, straightening up but Mike kept a hold of me as we slowly walked up toward the church doors, his arm linked with mine as we followed the others.

  
  


I watched in the distance as Joe who had already reached the church began to rattle the white wooden door. It wasn’t opening and I could feel a frown creasing across my brow as we got closer. Surely I’d not got the wrong church? No, it couldn’t be possible. Rob and Phoenix had made a note of the venue the moment my mom’s shrill tones had echoed down the crackly phone line. We crossed the road, walked under the white archway and followed the winding path up to where Joe and Rob were now standing, confused expressions on their faces.

  
  


“Are we early?” Joe asked.

  
  


I glanced down at my watch.

  
  


“It’s five to twelve,” I shrugged, “I’d say we’re anything but early.”

  
  


Joe frowned and turned to the door again, “It’s most definitely locked,” He turned back to me with a sigh.

  
  


“Let’s try around the back, there’s bound to be another door,” Rob nodded, grabbing Joe by the arm and steering him away through a white gate and out of sight around the side of the stone building.

  
  


“We’ve got the wrong date, haven’t we? Or the wrong fucking place or… Fuck! Why couldn’t I have got this right? I swear she said it was today, I fucking swear and…”

  
  


“Chester calm down,” Mike gushed, shaking me by the arm.

  
  


I took a deep breath and followed Phi’s gaze as he looked over my shoulder. Turning around I saw a tall man with greying hair, the dog collar around his neck telling me that this had to be the Vicar, or Priest or whatever the hell these people called themselves. Religion purely confused me to the point I stayed away from it so as not so show my complete ignorance.

  
  


“Can I help you guys?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I cleared my throat, “We can’t get into your church.”

  
  


“Oh,” The man smiled, “This isn’t my church! This is God’s church,” He smiled again, holding out his arms and glancing up toward the sky, “Are you looking for somewhere to pray? I’m afraid we have to keep this place locked up due to vandals.. There is another church nearby which…”

  
  


“No,” I cut him off, “Sorry, we’re here for the funeral.”

  
  


“Funeral?” He shook his head, “I’m afraid there’s no funeral being held today. Just a wedding at three pm. Unless that turns nasty,” He paused as he chuckled.

  
  


“Wait… There’s no funeral today whatsoever?” Mike frowned.

  
  


“No. I have none booked until next Monday either. The last one was yesterday in fact, a terrible tragedy as well for such a young boy…”

  
  


I felt my heart sinking. I knew what was coming before Mike had even spoken.

  
  


“What… What was he called?”

  
  


The greying man paused, looking us up and down for a second or so, “Jack. Jack Bennington.”

  
  


“He’s… He’s been buried?”

  
  


“Yes, yesterday like I said it was such a terrible…”

  
  


I sobbed out loud. I couldn’t help it. A strangled choke, an ugly sounding thing just fell from my mouth and I pushed past Mike, grabbed Phi’s car keys from his hand and stormed down the pathway. I could hear worried shouts bombarding me as my pace quickened, as my fists clenched and I strode purposefully toward Phi’s car.

  
  


How could she?

  
  


How fucking  _could_  she?

  
  


“Chester! Chester come back!”

  
  


I ignored Mike’s voice and quickened my pace until I was running through the archway, across the road and hastily unlocking the driver’s door to Phi’s car. I jumped inside, slamming the door behind me and shoving the key into the ignition.

  
  


“Don’t even think about it,” Phi’s voice permeated my ears as he yanked open the door, “Get out of my fucking car.”

  
  


I snatched the seatbelt, dragged it over my chest and clipped it in place. My palms felt clammy as they wrapped around the steering wheel.

  
  


“Listen to him,” Mike shouted, “Don’t fucking drive off like this.”

  
  


“She fucking lied to me,” I hissed, “She fucking lied!”

  
  


“What’s going on?”

  
  


I glanced up as Rob and Joe came to a halt, worried expressions on their faces.

  
  


“Hop in,” I shrugged, “I’m fucking well going to have it out with her.”

  
  


“Chester…”

  
  


“Fine,” I shrugged, turning the key and revving the engine, “I’ll go alone.”

  
  


“Chester let me drive,” Phoenix spoke, his voice wavering.

  
  


“Get in.”

  
  


I stared ahead, my heart pounding as the others climbed in, Mike jumping in beside me and grabbing my hands.

  
  


“Don’t fucking do this. Just get out of the car and we can go around later and talk about this calmly…”

  
  


He didn’t finish, words cut off the moment I slammed the door, put the car into gear, put my foot down and blasted us down the road, breaks and tyres screeching as I gripped onto the steering wheel. My knuckles were turning white as I ignored Mike’s shouts and caught glimpses of the pale faces in the back seats. So fucking what? How could she do this? Just  _how_?

  
  


How we made it to my parents’ house in one piece would become one of life’s many mysteries. All I know is that ten minutes later I crashed the car into their garden, knocking down the hedge and picket fence in one swift motion. The car coming to a halt, my fingers still clamped tightly around the steering wheel, Mike took the time to snatch the keys from the ignition. I could hear the others muttering obscenities as I let go, slung my seat belt free and snatched open the door.

  
  


Not surprisingly, the front door had swung open and there stood my dad, mouth open in astonishment as he steadied himself on the door frame. I slammed the door, rolled up my sleeves and marched over to him.

  
  


“Where the fuck is she?” I shouted.

  
  


“Where the fuck is who?” My dad stared at me with open eyes, “What the hell is going on here?”

  
  


“I want to speak to your wife,” I spat, “I want to ask her why she told me the funeral was today, when in fact it was yesterday.”

  
  


“I wondered what excuse you were going to use…”

  
  


“Excuse? Excuse me! Do you think we’d all be dressed like this if I was lying? Do you think I would have fucking well trashed your fucking garden?” I shouted, waving my hand toward the upturned picket fence.

  
  


“Jesus Chester,” He paused, “Get inside before the neighbours see you.”

  
  


“Why? Are you ashamed of me or…”

  
  


“What’s going on?”

  
  


I stopped, glancing up as my mom reached my dad’s side. For some reason I’d expected her to be without make up, pale and perhaps wan, a box of tissues at her side. She was dressed in a tight black dress with puffy sleeves, more make up than a drag queen drawn across her face.

  
  


“Why did you do it?” I hissed, clenching my fists at my sides.

  
  


“Do… What?”

  
  


My dad glanced behind, “Chester says you told him the funeral was today?”

  
  


“Oh,” She shrugged, “That…”

  
  


“What?” Lee exploded, “You did that? You told him it was today?”

  
  


“He didn’t deserve to be there.”

  
  


“Honey that’s, God, that’s not fucking fair is it? You made our entire family believe he just couldn’t be bothered to show up? What in hell’s name is wrong with you?”

  
  


“What’s wrong with me?” She snapped, grabbing her coat from behind the door, “My son has just been killed, that’s what’s wrong,” She hissed, pushing past us and storming over to her car, “Now are you coming with me or what?”

  
  


I watched as she climbed into her car, the door slammed shut behind her. She was reaching into her handbag, pulling out a packet of cigarettes as my dad placed a hand on my shoulder. I turned to face him, noting the quiet, empty house behind him. The hustle and bustle, the constant stream of people coming and going had evaporated into nothing.

  
  


“Chester I’m sorry,” He sighed, rubbing my shoulder, “Your mom’s taken this a lot harder than any one of us. We’re going to look at some properties, your grandparents figured it might be time to sell up and move on.”

  
  


“Sure,” I nodded numbly, “Are they here?” I asked, thinking how I could really do with talking to them.

  
  


“No,” He shook his head, “They took Stephanie and Izzy out for the day.”

  
  


“Okay… I’m, I’m sorry about the yard. I’ll get it fixed.”

  
  


“Don’t worry about it,” He paused, glancing over at the car, “Listen, your mom wants you to get your things, y’know, so the place doesn’t look too untidy when people are viewing it.”

  
  


I smirked.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“That’s the lamest excuse I’ve ever heard dad. If she wants me out, you’ve just got to say…”

  
  


He shook his head, “This is hard y’know. I just lost one son, I don’t want to lose another…”

  
  


“Yet it’d be easier if I got all my belongings out so they’re not a constant reminder to everyone that I killed Jack?”

  
  


“No Chester. That is not what I meant,” He said sternly.

  
  


I glanced numbly down the hallway behind him.

  
  


“Post your keys through the letterbox,” He told me, his hand gone from my shoulder, “And I’ll call you, okay?”

  
  


I suddenly felt worse than I had in weeks. Even at my lowest when I’d been drowning my sorrows in drink, clinging to bottles the same way I was clinging to the memories of my baby brother, nothing,  _nothing_  felt as bad as the moment my dad patted me on the back and walked away. I could hear the engine starting up, the slam of a door and the sound of the car reversing out into the road. It faded away all too soon and I stood motionless in the doorway until a pair of arms came and encircled me from behind.

  
  


I half expected it to be Phoenix, but when I turned into the embrace and was met with Mike in his black suit and wonky tie and Phi was all the way back at the car, slowly getting inside it with the others and not even glancing up at me before he drove away. I figured it was always going to be this way.

  
  


“I have to... I have to get my things and leave.”

  
  


“I know,” Mike murmured, “We heard.”

  
  


The house felt cold as I stepped inside. There was no blast of radio, no TV coming from the front room and no sound of a food processor or someone singing in the bathroom. I shivered and walked down toward my bedroom, pausing in the doorway. The last time I’d been here was the day Jack had died. I closed my eyes and could hear my neighbour’s frantic shouts; feel my heartbeat rising the way it had done so rapidly.

  
  


Pushing through the door, I was met with the same destruction that had remained untouched since that day. Bed clothes strewn across the floor, an upturned chair and books scattered across the desk. I pushed inside, numbly walking to my bed. My hands brushed against the mattress and I sat down, sliding the blanket, the fucking Winnie The Pooh blanket, up toward my face. I closed my eyes, then opened them again, something having caught my sight.

  
  


Leaning forward, I was vaguely aware of Mike sitting down beside me as I picked up Hendrix, Jack’s beloved teddy bear and sat him down in my lap.

  
  


“Do you hate me Mike?” I whispered, prodding the bear in the stomach.

  
  


“ _Hate_  you? Fuck no.”

  
  


“I hate myself,” I whispered.

  
  


“Chester… You shouldn’t hate yourself.”

  
  


“Why not? What is there to like about me? I’ve fucked up time and time again. I can’t seem to do anything right.”

  
  


Mike sidled closer, his arm against my shoulder, “That’s bullshit,” He told me sternly, “You’re not the fuck up you paint yourself out to be.”

  
  


“I’m not? Mike I’m homeless, my parents want nothing more to do with me. The guy I thought I was batshit insane for is never there when I need him and I’m slowly starting to feel like I want to just curl up and sleep for a very long time.”

  
  


Mike sighed. His breath hit my cheek and I turned to look at him.

  
  


“Things will get better,” He told me, “They have to,” He added with a gentle smile.

  
  


“They better,” I whispered, “I can’t have  _another_  failed suicide attempt on my resume.”

  
  


“Listen,” Mike nodded, “Things are getting a little crowded at Rob’s. Why don’t we go and stay with my mom for a while? I know it’s not exactly ideal but it might do us both good. She’s really trying hard to get clean, I spoke to her last night and... I think we probably need to start as well.”

  
  


I nodded numbly. Anything had to be better than Rob’s floor or couch or sometimes a corner of his bed. As grateful as I was, I could tell I’d probably more than outstayed my welcome.

  
  


“Well,” I sighed, “I guess this is going to be the last time I’m sitting in this room.”

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike nodded, “I think even I’m going to miss this place.”

  
  


“It’s sure seen some things,” I paused, bouncing the bed a little, “Especially this thing.”

  
  


Mike grinned and chuckled.

  
  


“Did you know that I’ve had this bed since I was seven? Man, if it could talk. I lost my virginity on it, right there in fact, where you’re sitting.”

  
  


“Dude!” Mike shoved me playfully, “Ever heard of the expression TMI?”

  
  


“So,” I shrugged, “I also had my first kiss too.”

  
  


“What was his name?”

  
  


“His?! It was a chick thank you.”

  
  


“What? You mean you, Chester Bennington, exchanged saliva with a girl?!”

  
  


“Well,” I smiled sheepishly, “I was eight.”

  
  


“What were you doing with a girl in your bed when you were eight?”

  
  


“Not in it.  _On_  it.”

  
  


I leant against him, head hitting his shoulder gently. It was true though. These were going to be my last moments inside this room, this house even. Suddenly everything felt exposed. The walls behind the wardrobe would be uncovered; that tiny shard of missing paper where Josh had scrawled with a sharpie ‘Chester and Josh forever’; that stained bit of carpet by the door where Mike had thrown up; that patch of my bed where Josh had sat so many times I swore it had an indentation on the mattress. Now all these imprints, all these notions that hadn’t seemed that big at the time suddenly felt pretty fucking huge.

  
  


“He was some guy, huh?”

  
  


“Josh?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike nodded, “Sometimes you mention him then a few minutes later you drift off someplace else. It’s like you’re thinking about him?”

  
  


“I know and I can’t  _stop_  thinking about him. I put him up on a pedestal and now there’s someone right up there with him and it’s horrible Mike. I don’t want to lose him. I don’t want him to think I’ve stopped caring about him.”

  
  


“Chaz why would he think that?”

  
  


“Because I’ve started to realise that there is someone else as great as him…”

  
  


Mike shrugged, “From what I’ve heard about him he was a wonderful guy. He won’t want you to be miserable for the rest of your life. I think he’ll be pretty fucking stoked that you’ve found someone you care about as much as you cared about him. And I think that person has to be pretty fucking special in the first place for you to be even saying that.”

  
  


I sighed, flipped Hendrix over and began to fiddle with his ears before glancing up at Mike.

  
  


“It’s not Phoenix, if that’s what you think.”

  
  


Mike didn’t answer. Just stared back at me for a few moments before his hand patted me on the shoulder and he got to his feet.

  
  


“So,” He smiled, “Where the hell do we start with all of this shit?”

  
  


“Hey,” I pouted, getting to my feet, “My collection of comic books is not shit.”

  
  


“I thought I heard my big brother…”

  
  


I swung around to the doorway, smiling widely as I saw Steph standing there with a grin across her face.

  
  


“Steph,” I smiled, pausing hesitantly before walking over to her.

  
  


She looked so different. Older, somehow. Gone were her braids and black and pink spotted clothing, replaced with a plain jumper and jeans, hair tied back into a pony tail, thick black eyeliner replaced with brown. I cocked my head and looked at her as she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around me.

  
  


“I missed you.”

  
  


“I’m sorry.”

  
  


“You did nothing wrong.”

  
  


“But for not being there yesterday…”

  
  


“Dad phoned me, explained what happened. I told gramps I had to come back and fetch some more diapers. I just wanted to see you,” She paused “And you Mike.”

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


Our hug ended and I pulled away, casting a glance over at Mike who was busy folding up a stack of un-ironed shirts.

  
  


“So, how are you?” I asked, “How’s Isabelle?”

  
  


“We’re good,” She nodded, “Did Dad tell you they might be moving states?”

  
  


“States? No. He just said you were all thinking of moving.”

  
  


“I’m stopping here,” She shrugged.

  
  


“Really?”

  
  


“Yeah, Lucas and I are moving in together…”

  
  


“Lucas?! Lucas as in the hot guy who lives down the street? The gardener?”

  
  


“Isabelle’s dad, yes…”

  
  


“Oh God,” I laughed, “Please tell me mom and dad know.”

  
  


“Yeah. All hell broke loose when I told them. Dad was all for going across there and knocking the shit out of him... He seems to have calmed down a bit.”

  
  


“Wow. So, everything’s changing huh? My baby sister’s moving into her own house…”

  
  


“It won’t be ours,” She smiled, “His parents are letting us live in their annexe. Lucas just finished school this year so he’s taken a full time job doing the gardens around here. I’m waiting tables at the diner until next semester starts. Then it’s back to school.”

  
  


“Really?” I grinned, “That’s great. I mean, one of us has to finish their high school education, don’t they?”

  
  


She sighed, “It’s been so strange without you and Jack. I mean, even when you’ve been away with the band, you’ve always come back for a few weeks or phoned even. If I could turn back time y’know, I would. I’d never shout at you for taking too long in the bathroom and I wouldn’t turn Jack away when he begged me to read him a bedtime story either.”

  
  


“Hey,” I leaned in, wrapped my arm around her, “We all have regrets. We just have to learn from them. And think about it, life would be pretty fucking boring if we didn’t have them.”

  
  


Steph smiled and Mike looked up from the other side of the room with his eyebrows raised. I think he was telling me to take a dose of my own advice.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


That day changed everything but I wouldn’t realise that for quite some time.


	18. and I'm ready to disappear

Mike was waiting outside the court for me, hopping from one foot to another. Either he was freezing cold or wanted to pee quite badly. Watching him from the top of the grand stone steps for a few moments, I couldn’t help but giggle the moment he saw me and started to walk over. I lost the smile and stepped down toward him.

  
  


“So?”

  
  


“I got a suspended sentence.”

  
  


Mike sighed and smiled, reaching out for my arm, “That’s good Chester. Right?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “I feel like a weight has been pushed from my shoulders. I just have to stay out of trouble for the next eighteen months.”

  
  


“Well I’ll make sure you do just that.”

  
  


“Hmm,” I smiled, “So is this band meeting still on?”

  
  


“Yes,” Mike nodded, “Try and be civil to Brad please?”

  
  


I shook my head, “I’ll do my best.”

  
  


“I know,” Mike sighed, “I know I’m asking you to do something I shouldn’t…”

  
  


“Come on,” I nudged him gently, “Let’s get going. I don’t want to hang around this place any longer than necessary.”

  
  


Mike smiled and we crossed the street, heading towards the parking lot where I’d left my car. It had been an interesting week and, as I fished the keys out of my pocket, I couldn’t help but think a lot had changed in such little time.

  
  


Mike and I were now living at his mom’s. It was only temporary, a little cramped sharing his bedroom with him. A double bed surrounded by boxes of my belongings and shelves of books and records, had become my home. Still, it was better than imposing on Rob.

  
  


I unlocked the door to my car, got in and leant across to open the passenger side for Mike. There was a knack to opening it, one which I’d learnt the day I bought the car several years ago. It had been residing in my parents’ garage until last week when I’d gone around and dragged it out, surprised that it only needed a fucking good clean and a considerable amount of gas to get it going again.

  
  


Mike flicked on the radio, wound down the window as he lit up a cigarette. I put the car into gear and fastened my seatbelt, drove us out and onto the main road. The court buildings disappeared behind us in my rearview mirror and I said a silent goodbye to them, turning onto the highway.

  
  


We were heading to Maggie’s Diner; that safe place or neutral ground, as I’m sure Rocky had called it at some point during the phone conversation I had with him at the weekend. He’d called whilst Mike and I were attempting to cook pasta. Attempting, as in we ended up sitting in front of the TV with bowls of cereal. Rocky was concerned, as he’d not heard from any of us since the tour. I tried explaining we just all needed a break but he went on to mention he’d been to visit Rob that day with Brad and something about being able to cut the atmosphere with a knife had passed his lips. Well, it was hardly fucking surprising really, was it?

  
  


I wasn’t looking forward to being in a room with Brad again. Not considering my last memories of him were the look of hatred on his face as he told me to go and slit my wrists. All I wanted to do was tell him to get the fuck out of the band. He hurt Mike, he’d been practically abusing the guy, no matter how much insisting on Mike’s part that it wasn’t the case. There was something going on. Something else I didn’t know. Only every time I mentioned the Brad word, Mike clammed up and told me that they just fought a lot and I should know that by now.

  
  


I spun the wheel, steering the car around a tight bend. Mike was on his fourth cigarette, and I watched from the corner of my eye as he fidgeted with the lighter in his hands and blew clouds of smoke out of the window. It was cold outside, starting to rain but Mike sat with the window wound down, eyes unblinking, legs rocking against one another.

  
  


I drove through a red light, cursing to myself, and slowed down a little. The rain was coming down faster now, heavy droplets bouncing against the windshield. I flicked on the window wipers and Mike leaned forward and turned the volume on the radio up.

  
  


I wondered what the meeting would bring. Was anyone else thinking Brad should go? Was anyone else pondering if there was a point in the band continuing? What about the album we were supposed to be recording any day now? Was that going to happen or were we all just destined to never make it as a band? There were so many negatives glaring in front of me that I couldn’t help but think this was over already.

  
  


Maggie’s Diner suddenly appeared before my eyes, its neon sign flickering and torn building spread out to the right of the highway. I shifted up a gear, switched lanes and turned into the entrance. The parking lot was sparse, except for a familiar BMW parked in the far corner beside Rocky’s red pickup truck. Coming to a halt in the space beside it, I shut out the engine and pulled the key from the ignition. Mike sat motionless beside me, hands shaking as he cupped them around the flame casting out of his lighter.

  
  


“There will be other bands y’know,” I shrugged, “I mean, we could always start over?”

  
  


“It wouldn’t be the same,” Mike sighed, staring through the window as the wipers finally stopped their movements, “We’re signed Chester,” He glanced at me, “We’ve got this opportunity. I think we should try and make it work.”

  
  


Walking into the diner was strange. It felt like months since I’d seen Phoenix, let alone Brad and Rocky, and as we stepped in through the doors and were attacked by the smell of bacon, my stomach started to rumble and all nerves somehow faded away. Rocky waved us over, getting up from his seat with a smile on his face. At least one of us was remotely positive.

  
  


“Hey Mike, Chester,” He smiled, stepping aside so we could slip into the two spaces in the booth.

  
  


“Hey,” We both nodded, taking our seats.

  
  


“I’ll go get some more coffee,” Rocky smiled, taking off toward the counter.

  
  


I glanced around; Rob and Phoenix sat directly opposite me while Brad was tucked in the corner, his hair growing curly and wild once again, a set of silver studs pinned to his earlobes. I looked away from him and smiled toward Rob and Phi, my eyes lingering on my on-off boyfriend as he glanced down at the menu. We’d been here a thousand times before. We always ordered the same food; in fact, most of the time the waiting staff didn’t even need to ask what we wanted. Still, all of us sat with our eyes glued to the menus, until Rocky sat back down again.

  
  


“So, I’ll cut to the chase,” Rocky paused as Joe placed down his menu with a sigh, “You guys seem to have had a long enough break. The record company is insistent that you should be moving toward getting some songs written for your album. They’ve scheduled a meeting for the following Monday so that gives you guys a week to get some of your demos together and perhaps brush up on being in a band?

  
  


“I know things have been tough, especially for you, Chester. I’m just concerned that you don’t seem to have started back together as a band. Is there something I should know about? I swear if this atmosphere gets any colder I’ll have to invest in a new coat…”

  
  


I glared across at Brad, realising I could no longer hold it all in, despite Mike having previously begged me not to bring it up.

  
  


“You do realise what went on during that tour?” I asked coldly.

  
  


“…”

  
  


“Brad pushing Mike off a balcony? Brad saying some pretty fucking hateful things to me?”

  
  


Rocky sighed, “I don’t think he pushed him. Right Brad?”

  
  


Brad looked up and for the first time in ages I met his eyes. They were cold and empty and I couldn’t help but shudder.

  
  


“I already apologised. I had too much to drink. It was an accident. Everyone else believes that, apart from you, Chester.”

  
  


“Everyone else?” I raised my eyebrows, “Oh, okay so that’s why you guys said you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him?”

  
  


“Yeah, we said that,” Rob nodded, “But we’ve all had time to reflect, to hear Brad’s side of things.”

  
  


“And what about Mike’s side of things?”

  
  


“Well it’s pretty much the same as what Brad told us,” Phoenix replied calmly.

  
  


“God,” I shook my head.

  
  


“Let’s just keep calm here, Chester,” Rocky interjected before I had the chance to continue. “You guys are a fucking great bunch of musicians. I’ve told you that countless times. If you want, you could be top of your game. I know for a fact that there are already talks of a tour with System of a Down, possibly one with Deftones in the new year…”

  
  


“Deftones?” I echoed, watching the way everyone’s eyes quickly lit up.

  
  


“Yes,” Rocky nodded, “But you guys need to get your acts together. Stop with the bickering and arguments, focus on getting that album written and recorded. I don’t want to see this talent of yours wasted.”

  
  


I sighed and fiddled with the ring on my thumb. A waitress came over with more coffee and a plate of waffles which she set down in the centre of the table. Brad leaned across and picked one up and I watched him from the corner of my eye as he began to nibble on it. Joe and Rob started a conversation about how  _fucking rad_  it would be to tour with System of a Down, and Phoenix poured himself another coffee.

  
  


How could they all be so fucking blind?

  
  


Mike shifted next to me and I watched him closely. It was as if he’d crawled back into his shell. Like before, when he insisted on waiting outside the court rooms for me, he’d been so strong and so positive. He’d stood and looked me square in the eye, his hands on my shoulders as he told me that everything would be fine. Then he hugged me and wished me luck, told me he’d be waiting for me.

  
  


And now?

  
  


Now he barely spoke a word, sitting with his eyes cast down to the table, hands fiddling with a pink and blue napkin. I nudged him and passed him a waffle. He smiled, took it from me and put it on his plate.

  
  


“So, are you guys going to  _try_  and get along?”

  
  


There was a pause as we all gazed around and looked at one another. Except for Mike, who sat silently in the corner, prodding his waffle with a fork.

  
  


“I think we should,” Rob suddenly spoke, “Like, you guys are my best friends, we shouldn’t be falling out like this. Everyone agreed?”

  
  


“I am,” Joe nodded.

  
  


“Me too,” Phi smiled.

  
  


“Brad?”

  
  


“Yup.”

  
  


“Mike?”

  
  


He nodded.

  
  


“Chaz?”

  
  


I shrugged.

  
  


“Oh come on Chester,” Rob sighed, “We need you, you know that. Not just because you’re the best singer on the planet and I want to hook up with you…”

  
  


I couldn’t help but smile.

  
  


“… But you’re one of us Chester, part of the team. It’s like, if one of us is out of sorts, we all are…”

  
  


“Just one condition,” I sighed, looking at Brad, “ _He_  stops telling me to kill myself.”

  
  


Brad smiled and chuckled and something strange happened; I laughed, shook my head and narrowed my eyes at him in a playful manner as everyone around us, even Mike, let out a sigh of relief and started to chat. Rob was right, we were part of a team and we had to sort things out in order to get through this. That was why I collared Brad on the way out, poking him square between the shoulder blades with my index finger once the others had filed out into the parking lot.

  
  


“Oh… Hey,” He nodded.

  
  


“Don’t hurt him anymore,” I simply said, “Don’t hit him or punch him or do whatever you do to him for whatever reasons. I mean it Brad, he’s one step away from being well and truly broken and if you do that to him I swear to God you’ll regret ever being born.”

  
  


Brad stared back at me, an unreadable expression on his face.

  
  


“You do that and I’ll make more of an effort to get on with you. I want this band to work, if not for myself then for the sake of the others. I’ll pretend I can stand to be in the same room with you, and you can pretend too, but if I find out you’ve laid one finger on him?”

  
  


“Whatever. I have to get back to work.”

  
  


Brad turned on his heel, the door swinging to and fro for several moments before I pushed myself through it, watched as he walked over to the others and said his goodbyes. I crossed the parking lot toward the others, eyes still on Brad as he walked away, still on him right until he crossed the road and turned into the next street.

  
  


“…So, are you guys coming over this evening? Because Brad says he’ll be round as soon as he’s finished work. We can like, get our shit together, as Rocky would probably say. Right, Chester?”

  
  


I came to a stop at Mike’s side as Phoenix finished talking. So he was addressing me now? How fucking ironic that he’d not once come to my help back in the diner.

  
  


“Sure.”

  
  


“You want to come back now? I mean, Rob’s coming over to get his drum kit set up in the basement.”

  
  


“Mike and I have to get to work.”

  
  


“Work?” Phoenix looked surprised.

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, scuffing the sole of my sneaker against the gravel, “At the car valet.”

  
  


“Oh, cool,” Phoenix nodded.

  
  


“So,” Mike suddenly spoke, “Rob, you wanted to show me that CD?”

  
  


“CD?”

  
  


“Yes,” Mike nodded, grabbing him by the arm, “Y’know, the one in your bag? In Phi’s car?”

  
  


“Oh!” Rob exclaimed, “That CD, yes, come with me,” He smiled, linking his arm with Mike’s.

  
  


“Very subtle,” I muttered under my breath as Mike dragged Rob away, leaving me and Phoenix to stand in the middle of the parking lot with nothing but a whole load of awkwardness draping itself around us.

  
  


“So,” Phi sighed.

  
  


“So.”

  
  


“Is… Is everything okay? You seemed a little pissed?”

  
  


“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “Maybe it has something to do with the fact I was in court this morning and you couldn’t even be bothered to show up?”

  
  


“Today?”

  
  


“Yes, today. I figured you knew, what with you being best buddies with my lawyer?”

  
  


“Shit Chester, I’m sorry, I forgot…”

  
  


“Yeah, whatever,” I shrugged, digging into my pocket for my cigarettes.

  
  


“Look, I’ll make it up to you. Why don’t you skip your shift, come back to mine?” He leaned closer, "There's chocolate cake in my fridge."

  
  


“Because, unlike some people, money doesn’t just  _fall_  into my hands. I’ve got to work. Mike and I are trying to save for a deposit on an apartment,” I snapped.

  
  


“You’re moving in with Mike?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“Why don’t you come stay with me? Both of you, I mean. I’ve got the guest rooms and the house is huge as it is…”

  
  


“I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

  
  


“What? Why not?”

  
  


“I just,” I paused, blowing smoke through my lips, “I don’t know what we are anymore, Phi, and I just, I can’t deal with any more at the moment.”

  
  


“Deal with any more? Any more what?”

  
  


“Confusion?”

  
  


“I finished things with Sophie,” He shrugged, “I thought that would have told you how I feel?”

  
  


I sighed. This wasn’t what I wanted to happen. I just wanted to clear the air but I couldn’t help but feel constantly pissed off with him. Ever since he revealed he’d known about Josh, ever since he quit then rejoined the band, I just felt like I didn’t know who he was anymore; or more to the point, had I ever really known? I felt betrayed. Not only by Phi, but by myself for thinking he was the person I’d once seen him to be.

  
  


“Maybe we just need some time apart.”

  
  


“Time apart?” Phi raised his eyebrows, crossed his arms over his chest and huffed a little; I couldn’t help but smile.

  
  


“Yeah.”

  
  


“We’re just about to go into a recording studio for the next few months?”

  
  


“I don’t mean literally… I just mean from being  _together_.”

  
  


“I’d hardly say we’ve been together.”

  
  


“Yeah well… Maybe that’s how it’s meant to be.”

  
  


“You really mean that?”

  
  


I shrugged. I didn’t know what I meant. I was fast struggling for the right words to say.

  
  


“Can’t we try?” Phi asked, stepping forward, “Just try and get back to where we were when this first started?”

  
  


“I want to,” I told him truthfully, “I just don’t think I can feel that way.”

  
  


“You’re impossible,” Phi smiled, shaking his head, “I’m offering myself to you here on a plate and you’re not interested?”

  
  


“Look, I’ll be over later. Right now I have to go to work. I need money for gas and food, oh and some new notebooks,” I brushed past him, “Later, yeah?”

  
  


“I can get you those things you know? You don’t have to go to this lame job and…”

  
  


“It’s not about that though Phi, is it?”

  
  


I don’t think he understood at the time but I left him baffled and sadly watched as his face creased into a frown before turning away. Funnily enough, Mike and Rob were looking at a CD when I reached them and unlocked the door to my car. I sat down with a dull thud and shut the door. In the rearview mirror I could see Phi standing in the same spot, scuffing his Converse against the gravel just the way I’d been doing. I wanted to go back and tell him that it just wasn’t enough.

  
  


I just didn’t have the heart and soon I’d learn anyway that he’d not meant a single fucking word in the first place.

  
  
  
  


+

  
  
  
  


“The cymbal is upside down.”

  
  


“Dude! What the fuck? How can it be upside down?”

  
  


“I don’t know! You’re the one who fitted this! Christ, Joe…”

  
  


“Hey! I’m master of putting things together.”

  
  


“Yeah? Like what? Jigsaw puzzles with your daughter?”

  
  


“Shut up man, and stop jiggling about!”

  
  


“I’m not!”

  
  


“You are Rob! Pack it in!”

  
  


I watched in amusement, leaning against the doorframe to Phi’s basement with a can of coke in one hand, a cigarette in the other. Someone came up behind me, their hand brushing against the small of my back. I turned around to see Phoenix. Well, it was his house. It was just that I’d spent the entire afternoon washing cars with nothing but him in my head. Did I still have a thing for him? Very much so. Was I sure why I still gave a fuck? No.

  
  


“Hear me out?”

  
  


I smiled, “Maybe somewhere quiet though. I think these two are going to come to blows pretty soon over this.”

  
  


“Come on,” Phi slipped his hand across my wrist.

  
  


I followed him up the stairs and into the hallway. Then up more stairs and into his bedroom. He pulled the door to as I stepped inside and found myself sitting on the edge of his bed. An ashtray lay on the bedside table so I leant over and flicked the butt of my cigarette into its glass shell. I sighed and Phi sat beside me, silence reigning throughout the room until the sound of something crashing downstairs, followed by Joe’s laugh, filtered up into our ears.

  
  


“Looks like you were right,” Phoenix chuckled softly.

  
  


I took a swig of my coke and placed the can down, “Hmm.”

  
  


“Look, I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I know I suck, I know. I just,” He paused and turned directly to me, “Give me a chance? I feel like each time we’ve started, it’s ended all too quick and we’ve not even given it a go. So will you?”

  
  


“I guess,” I smiled.

  
  


I’d given it a lot of thought. No, way too much thought. So much so that Mike made me take the long walk to Phi’s with him so I could sort my head out.  _Just tell him you like him, Mike told me. Tell him he’s that special guy who you’ve spent most of the afternoon thinking about._  I wanted to tell Mike that Phi wasn’t  _the_  special guy but he’d left me on the corner of Phi’s road to go back and fetch my car. Apparently I’d been in too much of a state to drive it.

  
  


And now, here I was sitting shoulder to shoulder with Phoenix. Sure I liked him, but did I like him enough to want to try? Too much was spinning around my head, way too much and I was starting to think to myself that I really needed a drink. Just a beer or two. Or maybe a shot of Vodka.

  
  


“Was that a yes?”

  
  


I glanced at Phoenix and nodded my head, “But this is your last chance,” I told him sternly, “Don’t think Mike won’t kick your ass if you mess me around again.”

  
  


“I don’t doubt he would,” Phi paused, sliding closer, “He won’t have the need to. I promise.”

  
  


“Don’t promise.”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“Because I’ve had enough of them being broken.”

  
  


In hindsight it perhaps wasn’t the best start to our relationship, mark three. But as Phi pushed me back on his bed, told me to stop being a pessimistic bastard and straddled my hips, I couldn’t have felt happier. If not for the decision I made but for the fact I made a decision. Plus he tasted just like I remembered, made me feel alive again.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


“It’s for you,” Phoenix told me, passing me the receiver.

  
  


I frowned, glanced at the clock on the wall as he sat down beside me and opened the box of pizza he was cradling in his arms. It was two in the morning. Who was calling and asking for me at this god forsaken hour?

  
  


“Hello?” I pressed the phone to my ear.

  
  


“Is that Chester Bennington?”

  
  


“Yeah…”

  
  


“I’m ringing from St. Mark’s hospital. Your cousin Mike was brought in earlier this evening. He had you down as next of kin…”

  
  


“Sorry?” I frowned, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, “What… My  _cousin_?”

  
  


“He only just came round. Only just got this number passed onto me…”

  
  


“I… What?”

  
  


“Your cousin needs someone to fetch him.”

  
  


“Fuck,” I sat up straight, my face falling as the lady’s words started to form coherent sentences. “Mike. Is he okay? What happened?” I asked, sliding down off the bed and scrambling about on the floor for my boots.

  
  


“I’m afraid I can’t disclose that information. If you come to the ER and report to the reception desk, we’ll be able to tell you more, sir.”

  
  


“Oh God,” I shivered, pushing my feet into my battered Converse shoes, “Okay,” I steadied myself as I got to my feet, “I’ll be right over.”

  
  


The line went dead and I dropped the phone to the bed.

  
  


“Is everything okay? That lady kept referring to you as Mike’s cousin?” Phi asked.

  
  


“I’m down as his next of kin,” I paused, “Fuck, can I borrow your car?”

  
  


“After last time?” Phoenix smiled, “No way dude…”

  
  


“Please? This is really fucking important.”

  
  


“What’s happened?”

  
  


“It’s Mike, he’s in the hospital.”

  
  


“Oh God,” Phi ran a hand through his hair, “Okay, let me get some clothes on. I’ll drive.”

  
  


I nodded and got to my feet, not realising I was still naked, aside from my boots. I grabbed my shirt and pants, pulling them on without even bothering to check if they were still inside out. My heart was racing frantically and I began to pace the room, shoving my hands deep into my pockets.

  
  


“Phi please,” I murmured, “You don’t need to do your hair…”

  
  


He ignored me, scrutinising his reflection in the mirror before grabbing the keys to his car and his cell phone from the nightstand.

  
  


“Okay, let’s go,” He told me.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Phi went to find a parking space and I crashed through the entrance to the emergency room. I kept thinking how I’d been here thousands of times before. How it was always Mike I was coming to rescue with that strange knot in my stomach, strange taste in the back of my throat that only reared itself when I was this nervous.

  
  


A group of teenagers were hanging around, flipping through magazines and looking restless. Behind them stood an older lady with an exasperated expression drawn across her face. I pushed past them and crossed over to the desk, interrupting the receptionist as she picked at a sandwich.

  
  


“Excuse me,” I started, “Someone called me, my friend Mike is here?”

  
  


“Mike?” The lady nodded, placing down her apple and moving her fingers toward the keyboard that sat in front of her, “Surname?”

  
  


“Shinoda.”

  
  


Her fingers rattled the keys and she sighed and sat up in her chair, eyes scrutinizing the screen before her.

  
  


“Ah yes,” She nodded, “You just need to fill out some forms for me,” She leant back, her hands swooping down on a clipboard.

  
  


“But he’s okay, right? What happened?”

  
  


“Take a seat, fill out as much as you can. A nurse will take you through then.”

  
  


I sighed and snatched the clipboard and pen. I knew she was only doing her job but still, wasn’t it pretty important for me to know what the hell had happened? All sorts of explanations ran riot through my mind as I sat down away from the crowds of people. I mean, did he crash my car? Was he in some kind of accident? Or did he tried to kill himself again? Take an overdose?  _Hurt_  himself?

  
  


I took a deep breath. I’d filled enough of these forms out to know the information off by heart and was just returning the clipboard when a nurse walked over to me.

  
  


“Chester, right?” He smiled, “I’m Todd.”

  
  


“Is Mike okay? What…”

  
  


“He’s going to be fine,” Todd smiled gently, leading me through a double door, “Unfortunately it looks like we’ll be keeping him here until the morning. He had a bit of a turn for the worse not long after you were called.”

  
  


“Shit, what happened? Why is he here?”

  
  


Todd stopped at the nurse’s station, leaning back against the counter.

  
  


“He says he was attacked near his home. He was beaten pretty badly. A man out walking his dog found him and called the ambulance. He’s pretty shaken and badly bruised but that’s all.”

  
  


“And just now? Is he okay?”

  
  


“He had a bad asthma attack, no doubt brought on by him obviously being pretty frightened. He’s wearing an oxygen mask, so please, don’t be alarmed. The doctor prescribed him some painkillers and we’re just waiting for the results of a head scan to come back before he can be discharged, but like I said, that probably won’t be until the morning.”

  
  


I slowly nodded my head, “I can see him, right?”

  
  


“Sure,” Todd moved away from the desk, “He’s just through there,” He told me, pointing to the next double door, “I’ll be round in a while.”

  
  


“Thanks,” I murmured, turning toward the door.

  
  


I could see him as I peered through one of the glass panels. He was in the bed furthest away, head turned toward the wall, fingers fidgeting with the bed sheets. I took a deep breath and opened the door, noting how all the patients except Mike were sleeping quite peacefully.

  
  


“Hey,” I heard myself whispering as I reached his side.

  
  


Mike automatically turned to face me, his eyes red as they focused on me. His left hand came up toward the oxygen mask I’d been warned about, but I reached out and gently pushed it away. Mike lowered his hand as I pulled up a chair and sat down next to him.

  
  


“What did he do to you?” I whispered, shaking my head, “What the hell has he done?”

  
  


Mike gulped. A tear slid down his cheek. I leaned closer, took one of his hands in mine.

  
  


There wasn’t an inch of his face that wasn’t red or black or some other sickening shade. Dry blood clung to his fingernails and I winced at the way he was shaking so badly. I wanted nothing more than to march out and find Brad, pin him to a wall and do something to him. I wasn’t sure what. Point a gun to his head? Kick his body to the ground?

  
  


It was sick really, as all I wanted to do was hurt him yet I couldn’t do that when it came down to it because that would make me the biggest hypocrite of them all, wouldn’t it?

  
  


“What happened?” I repeated, this time searching for an answer.

  
  


Mike looked at me, free hand motioning up toward his face. I slid the mask away and waited for his words to flow. It took a few moments as Mike fought away tears and let a shaky sigh tumble from his lips.

  
  


“He said you spoke to him earlier.”

  
  


I closed my eyes. I swallowed down way too much air.

  
  


_Shit._

  
  


“Oh God,” I breathed out, “I am so sorry.”

  
  


“Please don’t tell anyone about this Chester, please don’t tell him to stop,” Mike whispered, a lone tear sliding down his cheek, “Please Chester? Because this is what he does to me every time you do.”

  
  


I felt sick, physically sick and as my eyes glanced down over his body and saw the blood which was speckled against his skin; the bruises showing around his neck, I felt like the biggest idiot alive.

  
  


“I am so fucking sorry,” I grabbed Mike’s other hand, “I never meant for this to happen.”

  
  


“I know,” Mike nodded, his stare vacant as he looked at the wall behind me.

  
  


“What happened?” I asked, slowly standing up and sitting down on the bed beside him.

  
  


“It doesn’t matter,” Mike murmured, “It just hurts.”

  
  


“Where?”

  
  


“Everywhere,” Mike sighed.

  
  


“Mike,” I paused, “I never meant for this to happen. I just wanted to make things right. I just asked him to stop, maybe I got a bit aggressive but I was only trying to make everything okay again. I am so sorry, I… God Mike, you’ve got to go to the police or tell someone about this…”

  
  


“No,” Mike’s voice was stern, “That’s not happening.”

  
  


“Please…”

  
  


“Why can’t you see that this is nothing, okay? It’s just an argument between two people that got out of hand. Believe me, I gave as good as I got.”

  
  


“Mike, you’re not being honest to yourself…”

  
  


“It’s. Nothing.”

  
  


The door squeaked behind us, indicating someone’s presence. I casually glanced behind me, feeling a pang of guilt as Mike loosened his hands from mine. It was Phi who interrupted our tense moment and I wasn’t quite sure whether to feel thankful or annoyed. He walked over and came to a halt beside me, sitting down in the chair.

  
  


“What happened?”

  
  


“I got jumped.”

  
  


“What? Where?”

  
  


“I drove back home to pick up my guitar. I was just walking across the parking lot when it happened.”

  
  


“Fuck man, did you get a look at who it was?”

  
  


I glanced up at Mike at this point, my eyes narrowing as he shook his head.

  
  


“I need some air,” I suddenly got to my feet, “I’ll be back in a second.”

  
  


Tears were stinging the corners of my eyes by the time I made it out of the ward. I came to a stop just the other side of a Pepsi machine, letting the tears finally spill as I leaned my head against the cool wall in front of me.

  
  


There was a lot on my mind at that point; all manner of emotions and questions running around, crashing into one another and exploding into thousands of other unanswered questions.

  
  


Mike had lied so easily back there when Phi asked him what happened, and it stabbed me right in the heart. If he could lie so flippantly to Phoenix, what’s to say he hadn’t, or didn’t, lie so easily to me?

  
  


It hurt me more than anything had hurt me in the past few weeks.

  
  


And suddenly, I realised that there was a big fucking wall between Mike and I. Not one that had just been built, one that had been growing taller for all the years I’d known him; more bricks added month by month and honestly, it felt like it was getting to the point where I could only just see over it.

  
  


I had to do something.

  
  


I had to mend things.

  
  


The thing is, I wasn’t sure if I could.


	19. and vacation seems far, seems far from here

I’d never, in all my years of knowing Mike, ever felt such distance between us as there was two days later when Mike was finally discharged from the hospital and we sat in the cold, still confines of the kitchen. Even the week when he’d gone AWOL and I’d spent my time rolling in and out of bed with a bottle in my grasp I’d not felt so far away from him as I did right now.

  
  


The toast I’d made us remained untouched, sitting stiffly on the large plate in front of us. I fiddled with the ring pull on my drink can and watched Mike from the corner of my eye. He sat staring at the wall opposite, elbows resting against the table, moving only to pick his cigarette up from the ashtray every minute or two.

  
  


I felt like I was going to explode any second. Not in a violent or aggressive manner, more in a bewildered and completely exasperated manner. I couldn’t  _not_  talk any longer. I couldn’t stand the silence any longer.

  
  


“Fuck, Mike,” My voice sounded shaky as it echoed around the room, “Please, say something.”

  
  


Mike leant forward and picked up his cigarette. He slowly turned to me, without missing a beat, his mouth opened.

  
  


“Something.”

  
  


I smiled, “That’s not funny,” I rolled my eyes.

  
  


“Then why are you laughing?”

  
  


“I’m not.”

  
  


Mike shrugged.

  
  


“Please don’t let this come between us.”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“Don’t. You  _know_  what.”

  
  


“It’s not. If you just stop mentioning it. Stop acting like it’s a big deal.”

  
  


“Mike! He could have killed you! Look at you! You can’t even get the blood out of your hair!”

 

“I don’t want to fall out with you over this.”

  
  


“Then stop shutting me out! Let me help you!”

  
  


“I don’t need help! Will you please just drop this? Stop acting like something  _big_  has happened because it hasn’t.”

  
  


“You’re asking me to turn my back on this? To pretend with you?”

  
  


Mike didn’t answer. I wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t have the words or because his mom, Erin, chose that exact moment to arrive home from her shift. The door sprung open and my senses were immediately attacked by the smell of her perfume.

  
  


“Only me!”

  
  


I took a piece of toast as her sing-song voice danced down the hallway. Seconds later she came walking into the kitchen, unbuckling her black stilettos as she came inside.

  
  


“Pop the coffee machine on Chester,” She smiled at me as she dropped her shoes behind the door, “How are my favourite boys?”

  
  


Neither of us graced her with a reply but she didn’t notice, too busy unpacking her shopping bags as she dumped them on the table.

  
  


“I thought I’d cook for us all, Mikey. I even got your favourite in.”

  
  


Mike cast me a glance. I could read just what he was thinking. And for a split second it was as if none of those sharp words had just been exchanged.  _My mom_ , Mike was thinking,  _wouldn’t know my favourite meal if it slapped her in the face_. Still, you couldn’t blame her for trying.

  
  


“None for me, thanks,” I called out above the hum of the radio she’d just flicked on, “I’m out.”

  
  


“Oh,” She glanced up as she pulled out a pack of Pop-tarts, “That’s a shame. Oh well, all the more for me and you then Mike? I figured we could watch a movie afterwards. I picked some up on the way home…”

  
  


I tuned out as I turned to pour her some coffee, my ears picking up the song on the radio that hummed away. My eyes watched Mike as he replied with monosyllables, and his mother as she danced around and packed food into cupboards, the refrigerator and just about anywhere she could fit it.

  
  


“Oh thanks sweetie,” She smiled, taking the mug from me as I passed it over, “So what’s happening tonight then Chester?”

  
  


“I’m just hanging out with Phi. We might go see a movie.”

  
  


“Aww, young love,” She smiled.

  
  


“It’s not like that…”

  
  


“Oh, you say that now,” She winked at Mike, “You and David have all the makings of love’s young dream.”

  
  


“I don’t even know if there is such a thing…”

  
  


“You’re too melodramatic for someone so young.”

  
  


“Cynical, Mom,” Mike cut in, “That’s the word you mean.”

  
  


“Oh whatever,” I chuckled, “I’m gonna head off now,” I paused to check my wallet was in my back pocket, “I’ll see you both later.”

  
  


Erin waved a hand at me as she drank her coffee and Mike nodded, gracing me with a smile as I slipped out of the kitchen and trudged down the hallway. So, he wasn’t ignoring me any longer, which had to be a good thing. He’d obviously picked up on the fact that I was not happy with having to lie through my teeth to everyone and spin the ridiculous story that he’d been attacked by a gang of strangers. And knowing me so well, he obviously realised that avoiding talking to me was for the better.

  
  


I shuffled down the stairs, my footsteps echoing loudly as I jogged. The lights hanging precariously from the walls threatened to flicker out the closer I got to the ground floor. Mike and I had calculated that after just six more shifts washing cars in a ridiculous uniform that consisted of dress pants, a maroon shirt, black waistcoat and a freaking  _cravat_ , we would then have enough money to put a deposit down on a substantial apartment. Nothing lavish, just one that didn’t require a tank of oxygen to make it up the stairs. One that didn’t have paper-thin walls or mildew growing in the kitchen. And one that didn’t come with the unpredictable bundle of fun that was Erin.

  
  


I reached the door and kicked it gently as my hands weren’t enough to force it open any longer. It was cold outside yet I couldn’t be bothered to go back up and fetch a jacket. Phi was already waiting, leaning against his car and smoking a cigarette as I walked over.

  
  


“Hey,” He smiled warmly, flicking the butt of his smoke to the ground.

  
  


“Hi,” I grinned back, coming to stand before him.

  
  


He leant forward, hands brushing against my hips, lips still tasting of smoke as he kissed me. I shivered and kissed back, getting the butterflies in my stomach the moment he pulled away.

  
  


“So,” He smiled, “How’s my favourite alt boy?”

  
  


“Hey,” I mock glared, “Less of the alt boy,” I poked him in the ribs, “I’m fine. You?”

  
  


“Good,” He shrugged, “How’s Mike doing?”

  
  


“Oh he’s okay,” I paused, “I think. A little shaken and bruised.”

  
  


“He was an idiot to turn the police away when they came to talk to him y’know?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded vacantly, “Tell me about it.”

  
  


“Guess there’s no changing his mind, then?”

  
  


“I don’t think so,” I sighed, “I think he just wants to forget it ever happened.”

  
  


“Poor Mike. He seems to be in and out of that hospital.”

  
  


“Tell me about it,” I murmured, glancing back at the high rise behind me, “Anyway, I was hoping you were going to cheer me up.”

  
  


“Oh, really?” Phoenix smiled, slipping his hand around mine, “I’m sure I can do something about that.”

  
  


I shook my head and walked around to the passenger door, slipping inside the heated car. The leather seat squeaked beneath me as I sat down and pulled my belt across me. Phi flicked the radio on, slamming his door shut and putting the car into gear as I gazed out of the tinted windows, thinking of how he was driving me away from this place, driving me away to a world that on the outside looked so much better, but deep down in the back of my mind I couldn’t help but think that no, no it wasn’t any better.

  
  
  


+

  
  


I could smell perfume in Phi’s hallway and shuffled awkwardly from foot to foot as he slid off his coat and locked the front door behind him. It had only been a few days since I’d been here last, rushing off to Mike’s aid. Yet the hallway now had paint on the walls, fancy pictures dotted around and plush carpet beneath my scuffed boots.

  
  


“You like?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “It looks like a show home.”

  
  


“Well thanks,” Phi rolled his eyes, “I’m sure once we start band rehearsals again it will look a little more lived in. Which reminds me,” He paused, “Rob and Brad were over earlier…”

  
  


I stopped in the act of untying my dirty boots. Brad? How the hell did he have the cheek to act like nothing even happened? I steadied myself against the wall, kicking my boots off a little louder than I’d intended.

  
  


“You okay?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I forced a smile, counting to ten in the back of my mind, “Fine.”

  
  


“Well, the studio’s ready. Finally! I mean, I just need to get the mixing desk and all the equipment in but it’s soundproofed at last! And it’s going to double up as a great rehearsal space! Come and see.”

  
  


I followed Phoenix down the hallway, pausing at the door that led to the basement. He opened it up and flicked on the light.

  
  


“Okay,” he grabbed my arms, “Close your eyes.”

  
  


“Do I have to?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


I sighed and shut my eyes, felt one of Phi’s hands resting against the small of my back as he led me down the stairs.

  
  


“Okay,” His hand left my eyes, “Open up!”

  
  


I blinked and looked around the room that just a couple of days ago had been littered with a battered couch, half finished drum kit and pots and tins of paint. To say that the room before me with its dark oak walls, plush leather couch, deep coloured carpets and fucking vocal booth was different, was a fucking understatement.

  
  


“Oh my word,” I uttered, stepping forward, “This is… Fuck!”

  
  


“I know, right?! It will look so much better once it’s finished, but it’s a start. I mean, at least now we have somewhere solid to practice and get ideas laid down.”

  
  


“Wow,” I breathed out, “Woah. You know, this was one of my dreams, when I was a kid. To have a place like this. I’m completely envious,” I gushed, running my hand along the smooth, inviting surface of the leather couch, “Remind me again why my parents aren’t doctors and life coaches to the rich and famous?”

  
  


Phoenix laughed, “It’s as much yours as it is mine. I did this for the band y’know, not just me. And just so you know, rich doctors with Hollywood smiles aren’t the best parents.”

  
  


“You say that now,” I shook my head, “Seriously. If you tell me you’d rather have my dysfunctional parents over yours, I will, I don’t know,” I shrugged, my eyes wandering to the vocal booth once more, “Do something drastic.”

  
  


“Love is supposedly better than money.”

  
  


“For one, I know that you don’t believe that.”

  
  


Phi looked hurt for a second.

  
  


“And two, my parents  _don’t_  love me.”

  
  


“That’s not true.”

  
  


I turned to face him, “Believe me. It is. And anyway,” I shrugged, “That’s beside the point. This place is just, wow,” I turned away, my eyes marveling over the expanse.

  
  


“Yeah,” Phi nodded, “I think wow is the right word.”

  
  


I smiled and nodded my head.

  
  


“You know what else I think?”

  
  


“Go on…” I nodded.

  
  


“I think we should christen the couch.”

  
  


My smile got bigger, all thoughts of Mike and not being able to do a thing about the omnipresent Brad just about faded, spiraling into that cavern in the back of my mind. Phi stepped forward and I stepped back, moving further into the room until my legs hit the couch and Phoenix pushed me down.

  
  
  


“I’ll second that,” I whispered.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Phi’s body felt safe and warm as I leant against it, brushing my hands across his chest. I kept my eyes closed and felt something soft brush my bare skin as Phoenix pulled a blanket over us. My body ached, my skin burned but I was too tired to care.

  
  


“You going to crash here?”

  
  


“How could I refuse such a romantic proposition?”

  
  


Phoenix laughed and ran a hand down my back, fingers resting at the tip of my spine. I opened my eyes and glanced around the darkened room, eyes settling on the clock.

  
  


“I should probably go,” I sighed, “I have an early shift tomorrow.”

  
  


“I feel like the chick whose guy only comes round for sex,” Phoenix murmured.

  
  


“Shut up,” I nudged him, “No you don’t. Do you?”

  
  


“No,” Phi smiled, “It was a joke.”

  
  


“Sorry, I’m just…”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“Oh it’s all this business with Mike. It’s just getting me down.”

  
  


“I wish I could help.”

  
  


“I don’t think even  _I_  can help,” I replied gloomily, “Anyway, enough of that. Thanks for tonight. I’ve enjoyed myself.”

  
  


“Me too.”

  
  


“And I’m excited to put this room to its proper use,” I smiled, languidly reaching down to pick up my discarded shirt.

  
  


We dressed in silence, silence only broken by that echo in my mind of Phi’s voice.  _Like the chick whose guy only comes round for sex._  Like he wasn’t just using me as well.

  
  


“Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. Rocky called. That meeting with the record label is tomorrow afternoon.”

  
  


“Great,” I sighed, suddenly feeling all too like a deflated balloon, “What time?”

  
  


“Three. I’m picking up Brad and Rob so I can stop by and--”

  
  


“No, it’s okay. Mike and I are working until two, that’s if he bothers to get out of bed,” I mused, “We’ll drive over.”

  
  


“Okay,” Phoenix nodded, buttoning up his shirt as I rested on the arm of the couch, my arms wrapped defensively around my body, “Ready?”

  
  


“Sure,” I nodded, following him up the staircase. It was chilly as we headed for the front door and I fleetingly wondered what the time was, fingers grazing against my wrist which felt strangely bare, “Wait a second. I left my watch,” I rolled my eyes, turning back down the stairs.

  
  


The room felt warm, smelt musky as I crossed the new carpets and headed toward the couch. My watch was poking out from the back, where I’d shoved it after its constant ticking had become irksome during the quiet moment when I’d been trying to drift off to sleep. I slid my hand down between the cushion and the frame, frowning as my fingers connected with something soft - as well as the cheap leather strap of my watch.

  
  


The red thong I pulled free stared back at me almost as accusingly as I stared at it. I gulped and glanced back toward the stairs, shaking my head and rolling the offending material into a ball. Crossing the room, I placed it down on the bare panels of the mixing desk, my heart thundering in my chest as I hot-footed it up the stairs.

  
  


“Found it?” Phoenix asked as I shut the door.

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, grazing past him and out into the chilly night air, “You know,” I called out as I reached his car door, “It’s amazing what you find down the backs of couches.”

  
  


“Tell me about it,” Phoenix smiled, “That one belonged to my parents - I already found ten dollars and a carton of cigarettes.”

  
  


I frowned as I slid into the passenger seat, hastily snatched the seatbelt across me. That just confirmed my suspicions. Phi’s mom wasn’t, to put it politely, the most petite of women. A size four thong would not have done her any favours.

  
  


Phoenix slammed the door, switched on the radio and lit up a cigarette.

  
  


I glanced at him sideways as he revved the engine and asked myself what in hell’s name I was doing with a guy like him. He was a player. He was out of my league.

  
  


And, worst of all, he was supposed to be my friend.

  
  


I hummed along to the mindless pop songs that whizzed from the speakers in the back of the car, watched the night skyline flashing by and told Phi to drop me off outside the Liqueur Store, assuring him that I’d be fine to walk the rest of the way.

  
  


I heard Phi’s car speeding away and breathed out a sigh of relief. My mind felt fuzzy and at conflict, like a huge battle was waging inside its weary depths. The perfume, the underwear, that ever present feeling like I didn’t quite know the real Phoenix, that I couldn’t quite trust him either, were slamming themselves against the fact that a huge part of me wasn’t as affected as I should have been. Ironic really that I’d not stopped thinking about Mike the entire evening. Or perhaps not. I kicked a broken piece of pavement with the tip of my boot and began to walk along the quiet street.

  
  


In between keeping a watchful eye on Mike and trying not to mention Brad’s name, I’d been thinking non stop about that moment; the one with me and Mike in my old bedroom right before we packed my life away into boxes and holdalls. And the way I’d said those words without even realising how very true they were, how hard they were becoming to ignore as the days crept by. It was true, no matter how hard I’d been trying to turn away from it. Mike was way up there. Up above Phi; up above Josh, fast becoming all I could think about.

  
  


And it confused me. I didn’t know what to think about it all. He was my best friend. He was fast becoming my only friend. The only person I felt I could rely on. The only person I felt wasn’t constantly judging me or expecting things of me. Or using me for sex and confusing the reason for my sheer existence.

  
  


I was at the apartment lobby already and felt my cold hands brushing against the door as I pushed it open. A drunk guy was staggering around in circles and I slipped past him toward the stairs, thinking I could do with the extra time walking up them to think things over. My feet dragged on the dirty steps, hand grazing against the banister. How I reached the top without falling backwards is anyone’s guess. And it hadn’t helped, because all I’d done was think how messy everything was becoming lately.

  
  


The lights were out when I slid into the hallway and locked the door behind me, dropping my keys into the dish on the telephone table. A slither of yellow floated softly from under the bedroom door and I walked down toward it, floorboards creaking under my tired feet. Opening the door, I found Mike sitting in the middle of the bed in Superman pajamas, a tub of ice cream resting in his lap.

  
  


“Are you pregnant?”

  
  


“No,” Mike smiled as I let the door shut behind me, “My birth control is working just fine, thank you.”

  
  


“Then there’s only one other reason you’re eating ice cream at,” I paused, glancing at my wristwatch, “Three am.”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” Mike sighed, “I needed something so badly.”

  
  


“Tell me about it,” I nodded, “What happened with Erin that was so unbearable then?”

  
  


“Dane happened.”

  
  


“Dane?” I frowned, shuffling my feet out of my boots.

  
  


“Yeah. This guy who I swear is gay showed up. She met him at her AA meetings. He came over and she went out to the movies with him instead.”

  
  


“Oh,” I sighed, sitting down on the bed, “Not such a good evening after all?”

  
  


“It’s not like it hasn’t happened before,” Mike shrugged, dipping his spoon into the ice cream tub, “And I figured, y’know, one hit wasn’t going to matter too much.”

  
  


“True.”

  
  


“No. That’s the part where you’re supposed to be disappointed in me for not being able to stay clean.”

  
  


“Well firstly, I could never be disappointed in you,” I chuckled, “And secondly, it’s so fucking hard. I keep feeling myself just wanting to give up. And honestly, what does a bit of weed matter anyway?”

  
  


“What’s wrong?”

  
  


“Well, things don’t feel any better for  _being_  clean, do they?”

  
  


“True.”

  
  


“Makes me wonder why I’m bothering. At least I feel good some of the time when I’m not sober.”

  
  


Mike frowned, “Did something happen with Phoenix?”

  
  


“Oh no, he just fucked me and I left. The usual. Oh and I found a g-string down the back of his couch.”

  
  


“What?!”

  
  


“Apparently the couch belonged to his parents before and…”

  
  


“Oh…”

  
  


“Sorry,” I shook my head, “I just… God, I’m like the girl who begs her daddy for the new pair of hundred dollar jeans and then wears them once and well, they turn out to be not all that special after all…”

  
  


“What happened?”

  
  


“Nothing really happened,” I sighed, “I just… He’s not who I thought he was, that’s all. And I don’t mean in a bad way, I just mean that the chemistry I thought we had? It’s completely gone and I feel like I don’t care, even.”

  
  


“It’s okay to feel like that,” Mike shrugged.

  
  


“It is?”

  
  


“Yeah! You’ve tried, right? Look at it that way. Besides, I don’t want him hurting you again.”

  
  


“Thanks,” I smiled, “I do care for him y’know. Just not the way I thought I did. More like a brother, I guess.”

  
  


“Hmm, incest…”

  
  


“Shut up!”

  
  


“Sorry,” Mike laughed.

  
  


“It’s okay. You’re high, I forgive you.”

  
  


“Is there anything else bothering you?” Mike asked, setting the tub of ice cream down on a pile of books beside the bed, “I mean, is everything okay between  _us_?”

  
  


“Sure.”

  
  


“Chaz…”

  
  


“Mike, you know what the problem is. Or  _who_  the problem is, as I should say.”

  
  


“It doesn’t have to come between us though. I mean, isn’t that what you were saying earlier?”

  
  


“Yes.”

  
  


“So, what’s wrong then?”

  
  


“Mike! God! I care a fucking lot for you,” I paused, shifting uncomfortably beside him, “I think you know how I feel.”

  
  


Mike nodded. I wasn’t entirely sure if he  _did_  know, not really.

  
  


“Look,” I sighed, “I’d die for you, you idiot.”

  
  


Mike smiled softly, “Thanks?”

  
  


“But I’m not happy with you right now.”

  
  


“What did I do?”

  
  


“I’ll put it down to you being stoned for asking that,” I tutted, “Asking me to keep quiet about Brad? Acting like nothing happened?”

  
  


Mike nodded solemnly, eyes not wavering from the hold they had with mine.

  
  


“I know I shouldn’t ask you. He’s my friend, Chester and I’m just…”

  
  


“Scared of him?”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“I want to help, that’s all. You understand that, right?”

  
  


“You do help.”

  
  


“Do I? Standing back and letting this happen to you  _helps_?” I asked skeptically, brushing my fingers against the bruises that lined his jawbone.

  
  


“You’re blowing this out of proportion. You’re worrying too much.”

  
  


“I worry because I care so much…”

  
  


“I know,” Mike smiled, sliding his hand up and cupping it over mine, “I feel the same, you know…”

  
  


I didn’t know what to say. Not anymore. Mike smiled sadly and I’m pretty certain I was returning the exact same look. I slid my hand down his back, hand resting against his hip as he tilted his head and leant it against my shoulder.

  
  


We sat in silence.

  
  


Not awkward; not comfortable.

  
  


Just silence.


	20. two roads

I sighed and leant back against the pile of pillows behind me. Chewing viciously at the end of my pencil, I stole a glance at Mike who was staring at a spot on the bedroom ceiling. I closed my eyes, attempted thinking about anything but this fucking album to stop my head from exploding. Sadly, it was pretty hard.

  
  


The meeting with our record label had passed and now we’d pretty much relocated to Phi’s house for the week, trying to write some new material as we were due to start recording a debut album at the end of the month. We were trying, alright, trying and epically failing.

  
  


“What have you got?” Mike asked.

  
  


“Beside a headache, insomnia and a new found addiction to waffles? Here,” I sighed, waving my notebook in his general direction.

  
  


“ _Words don’t seem to come so easy when I need them oh so badly, here’s to playing tug of war with my vocal chords_ ,” he read out loud, “I like them,” he smiled.

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“Yeah. suits the mood I guess, they sum everything up,” he nodded, rolling onto his stomach and grabbing his pen, deep in concentration before his hand pressed the nib to the paper and he began to scribble away.

  
  


I rubbed my tired eyes and gazed out the window beside me. It had to be at least midnight by now, yet the sky outside showed no sign of the time; the stars that Mike and I had been gazing at from the garden were now hidden behind a blanket of clouds, slowly drifting across the open window, moving in time with the soft breeze that ruffled the curtains. It was like one of those calm, serene nights that still left my stomach turning and tying itself into unnecessary knots. A contradiction to the feeling they should have left, I guess.

  
  


Someone laughed downstairs, moments later followed by Joe’s voice that crept through the ceiling and was replied to by who I distinctly recognised as Phoenix. I closed my eyes and wondered what the morning would bring. I was stuck between awkward and confused.

  
  


“ _Maybe I can give this another shot or sing about a broken heart or imitate the way it would feel if this was happening for rea_ …”

  
  


Mike’s voice broke into my voice and I smiled at him, “How did you do that?” I asked, sitting up and taking the notebook from his warm hands. I couldn’t help but pause as I caught another glimpse of the ugly bruises that marred them.

  
  


“Do what?” he asked as my eyes scanned over the words once again - the words I swear I had been looking for.

  
  


“Describe exactly how I’m feeling.”

  
  


Mike raised an eyebrow at me, “Dude, if that’s the way you’re feeling then you’re  _fucked_ ,” he stated before bursting out into laughter.

  
  


“I know,” I nodded with a smile.

  
  


“It’s alright. So am I,” he grinned, taking back the book, “Maybe we can be fucked together?” he asked, writing more words down onto the lined page.

  
  


“What, is that the next line?” I asked with a laugh.

  
  


“Yeah,” he nodded, “How does it sound?!”

  
  


“It sounds shit,” I laughed, jabbing him in the ribs with my elbow, “Let me see,” I motioned with my hand, “Ha Ha,” I chided reading his scrawled words, “ _Or Maybe Chester needs a date with the shrink, the complete and utter freak_ …”

  
  


“It’s a hit,” he nodded, “We’ll call it ‘Chester Bennington is fucking fucked’ and the follow up single can be called ‘And his best friend Mike ain’t much saner either’ then we’ll go to rehab and never be seen again,” he mused closing the notebook and dropping it onto the nightstand beside him, “Let’s take a break.”

  
  


I nodded in agreement and got to my feet as Mike grabbed my arm and pulled me out into the hallway with him. Dodging paint cans and old newspapers, we navigated our way down to the kitchen where Brad and Rob were embarking on a game of foosball.

  
  


“Morning,” Rob noted, glancing up only for a split second as Brad spun one of his players and the small white ball crashed into the back of the net that Rob had, up until now, been defending.

  
  


“Ha!” Brad smirked, “For once in my life I’m pleased to see you two,” he grinned with every ounce of malevolence oozing from his voice, “That’s fifty bucks you owe me, Rob.”

  
  


I glanced at Mike who just rolled his eyes, then at Rob who was digging into his back pocket like the good loser he was. Had it been me, Brad would have received his money with a heavy dose of cussing and several black looks. Smart ass.

  
  


“So, did you guys get anywhere?” Rob asked, pocketing his wallet and hoisting his scrawny self up onto Phi’s brand new pine kitchen table. If only I could be as un-phased by Brad’s utter being as he was.

  
  


“Sort of,” Mike nodded as he headed over to the pantry and started rummaging through the shelves.

  
  


“Sort of?” Brad echoed with a look of disdain, “You’ve been up there long enough,” he muttered, sticking his head into the fridge as he grabbed a drink.

  
  


Yes, the thought of slamming the fridge door against his thick and arrogant head hit me tenfold. I sat down next to Rob and focused my attentions on concocting a polite response.

  
  


“So, what did you write? A few lines? Or letters…”

  
  


“You fucking try then,” I snarled.

  
  


“Tetchy,” he smirked, slamming the door to the refrigerator, “You want to watch how much time you two spend together, wouldn’t want Phi getting jealous now, would we?”

  
  


That was it. Maybe it was the lack of sleep or something, but I had to get out of that room before Brad’s head became a work of art on Phi’s freshly painted kitchen walls. Mike’s desperate plea for me not to rise to Brad’s bait had been taken on board by my pride so without a tongue lashing the next best thing was to get up, storm past him and slam the kitchen door sharply behind me. It was freezing in the backyard and as I leant back against the cold wall, I heard heated argument number one of the day erupting between Brad and Rob.

  
  


Heated argument number two started inside my mind as I skulked over to the low wall at the end of the patio and gingerly sat down against the chilly concrete surface. What was the point in being in a band with Brad? I hated him more than I hated the thought of being in the presence of George Bush, so why the hell was I pushing so hard to make this work for everyone? Why couldn’t I just face facts and see that the only reason the band argued so much was because of the hatred Brad and I shared for one another? Because I was selfish and too proud to let the fucker push me out of the band, just like I was utterly convinced he wanted to do.

  
  


“You okay?”

  
  


I jumped at the sound of Phi’s voice as he crept up behind me and sat down on a patch of grass in front of me, hair disheveled and faded Power Rangers pyjamas on - I couldn’t help but smile. The fact that he looked adorable almost cancelled out the fact that I was pissed off with him.  _Almost_.

  
  


“Why did you tell Brad about… us?” I asked, gazing at him through tired eyes.

  
  


“Is it that big a deal?”

  
  


“Yes, when Brad Delson has a mouth the size of Texas.”

  
  


“Look, he won’t say anything.”

  
  


“That’s not really the point. How could you tell  _him_  of all people?”

  
  


“I was doing you a favour, okay. He’s so fucking jealous of you and Mike, you do realise that right?”

  
  


“What?” I laughed.

  
  


“Well, he was going on about how much time you’ve been spending together. He wouldn’t shut up so I snapped at him and said that I was fucking you,  _that_  shut him up,” he drifted off. “What?”

  
  


“Wait a minute, you’re  _fucking_  me? Thanks a lot…”

  
  


“Oh you know what I mean,” he smiled, fingers brushing against my bare knees, “It’s hardly making love is it…”

  
  


“Do you want a fucking shovel?” I snapped, pushing his creeping hand away.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“So you can dig yourself out of that hole?”

  
  


“Shit Chaz, it’s late,” he sighed, “I just wanted him to stop being a bitch. You know what he’s like.”

  
  


“Clearly I don’t. I know he’s jealous of the friendship Mike and I share, but I didn’t think he was so twisted that he thought we were fucking or something and beside, what the hell does that have to do with him? I know he’s done some fucked up things,” I drifted off.

  
  


“Before you came along Mike was very, what shall we say, introverted? Brad was very protective of him, so much so that we often joked about him being Mike’s mother… Then as soon as he met you, it’s like you’ve brought Mike out of his shell. I guess Brad’s just not used to the fact that he doesn’t own him like he once did. Hence the bitching. He feels like you stole Mike away from him.”

  
  


I looked at Phoenix rather incredulously, “What?” I laughed, “I ‘stole’ Mike away from him? He’s not a fucking object - he’s human and he chooses his friends himself. Brad’s clearly more fucked up than I thought. You can’t own another person.”

  
  


“Yeah, well,” Phoenix shrugged as he glanced down at his hands and fiddled awkwardly with his fingers.

  
  


“There something you want to tell me?” I asked, knowing damn well that the look of sheer guilt on Phi’s face showed he was hiding something from me.

  
  


“It’s not really my place to tell you.”

  
  


Did he know about Brad’s steady fists? I frowned, “Well who’s place is it then?”

  
  


“I dunno,” he paused as he got to his feet and sat down next to me, “Maybe we could forget we ever had this conversation?” he asked.

  
  


“Or maybe you could stop speaking in riddles? What is it?”

  
  


“Look, how would you feel if in a few years time Mike found a new best friend and spent every living moment with them and not you?”

  
  


“This isn’t high school, Phi. This is real life. I’d be fucking gutted but hey, people move on. Beside, it’s not going to happen…”

  
  


“But, what if you were a little closer than friends?”

  
  


“We are,” I told him indignantly.

  
  


“Then it would hurt, right?”

  
  


“I guess,” I sighed, not really getting the point of this.

  
  


“Well that’s how Brad feels.”

  
  


“But he’s so fucking awful to Mike. He treats him like crap. How could he care?”

  
  


“Mike and Brad,” Phi paused to clear his throat, “Some shit happened between those two when they were younger, okay? I almost found myself dragged into it, but luckily I managed to get out of Brad‘s life long enough to realise that he wasn’t completely stable when we were kids.”

  
  


“What do you mean?” I frowned.

  
  


“I mean that, that Brad used to fuck about with Mike when we were younger… And yes, when I say fuck about, I mean sexually…”

  
  


I stared back at him and suddenly felt as if the wind had been knocked out of me. Phi gazed back with regret in his eyes as he chewed nervously on his lip, clearly gauging my reaction. Was he trying to tell me that the most homophobic man on the planet was fucking gay?

  
  


“What?” I finally whispered.

  
  


“You have to promise not to tell a soul,” he told me sternly, “Please Chester, you can’t tell anyone you know, especially not Brad or Mike. No one else knows.”

  
  


“What? Then how do you know…”

  
  


“We were about twelve or thirteen, I knew Brad before I joined the band. We had piano lessons together, my Mom and his were good friends and you know how it goes. I used to go around there whenever my mom was in need of a gossip fix on the way home from school. Mike would always be there, that was around the time he was living with the Delsons. We used to hang out, play Nintendo, smoke cigarettes, y’know, the usual crap. Then one day Brad asked me if I wanted to join in the game that Mike and him sometimes played. I agreed and we went down to the basement.

  
  


“Mike was really spaced out. I learnt later on that he’d been smoking weed all morning because, in his words it ‘blocked out the pain’. The place was a mess, but it was organised chaos. There were toys and old dressing up costumes, stacks of video tapes and cassettes, there was even a camcorder set up on its stand, hidden beneath an old rug. I knew that something wasn’t quite right when Brad locked the door behind him. Then he suddenly switched from being the slightly cocky teenager I’d known for a while into some kind of officious dictator. He told me that this was their game, he made the rules and no I wasn’t allowed to breathe a word about it because he’d fucking kill me.

  
  


“The next minute he was pointing some kind of pistol at my head and telling me to sit down next to Mike on a mattress that was piled high with cushions and sitting in the corner of the room. I’d never known anything like that so of course, I did as I was told. Mike seemed pretty nonplussed by the whole event and just sat cross legged beside me, void of any emotion. Next thing I knew, Brad had uncovered the camcorder and was standing behind it. He started shouting directions to me, I couldn’t hear the words, my head was dizzy from the weed that Mike had been smoking and in the end I remember Brad just shouting at me to ‘fucking kiss him…’ When you’ve got someone pointing a pistol in your direction, you do as you’re told…”

  
  


For the second time that day I felt like all my breath had been knocked out of my lungs in one split second. I felt myself paling and my eyes widening as complete confusion washed over me.

  
  


“Jesus fucking Christ,” I gasped, my mouth hanging open as Phi fiddled nervously with his hands.

  
  


“I won’t go into detail but he forced us to make out with each other. I kept thinking how fucked up it was and what scared me the most was how Mike had suddenly turned into some kind of puppet; like he just wanted me to bend him and break him and get it over and done with. Luckily for me, my mom was suddenly calling from above - Brad hissed a final threat at me and I dressed in a flash and made my way out. I tried to get out of visiting him again but a few months passed and my mom took a detour to see his mom on the way home from school. I tried to stay in the car, I tried to stay in the kitchen to listen to their mindless gossip but his mom insisted I go to his room. I should have knocked really but I didn’t…

  
  


“They didn’t see me. They don’t know that I saw Brad fucking Mike. I want it to stay that way too Chester, please you cannot whisper a word of that. It haunted me for months, I can’t tell you how good it is to confess what I saw but please, please don’t tell anyone…”

  
  


“Haunted you?” I whispered, “What do you mean?”

  
  


Phi’s eyes looked cold and scared as he stared back at me and the temperature outside suddenly felt as if it had dropped. The argument inside the house had long finished and all I could hear beside the faint murmur of traffic on the highway were Phi’s shaky breaths.

  
  


“I… I don’t think it was consensual,” he whispered, “Mike was crying. There was blood on the sheets. That’s all I remember.”

  
  


_He abused me Chester. He made me do things that I’m ashamed of. At the time I didn’t realise they were so wrong. Now I know and I have nothing but regret eating me away from the inside. It’s like I can’t forget what happened. He won’t let me forget. I feel so fucking dirty_ …

  
  


Lines from one of Mike’s letters flashed before my eyes and I was suddenly on my feet, shaking but attempting to move toward the kitchen door. How could I have been so fucking  _blind_?

  
  


“No, Chester,” Phi’s voice cut into my distorted thoughts as he grabbed me by the arm, “Please. You promised me.”

  
  


“Did I?” I hissed, shaking him off me.

  
  


My whole world started to spin around me. Mike’s letters came alive and dancing before my eyes were his tormented words. I saw nothing but Brad and his malicious smile and those dark eyes watching the two of us like a hawk would watch its prey.

  
  


When I opened my eyes I could see Mike standing in the doorway, frowning as he saw Phoenix bundling me into his arms. He looked like he was about to ask what was wrong but Phi turned my shaking body around and guided me with strong arms in the direction of the summer house that sat idyllically at the bottom of the long stretch of grass. Had I not been in such a state I might have noticed how pretty it looked with the moonlight dancing off its stained glass windows, but all I could see was Brad and his hands upon my best friend.

  
  


That image of Mike stayed with me for a long time. As Phi wrapped his hand around mine and somewhat guided me toward the summerhouse I glanced over my shoulder for a split second and there was Mike. Leaning against the back wall with a cigarette in his left hand, crumpled black wife beater clinging to his scrawny upper body, baggy black jeans hanging low on his hips, their ends torn and ripped as they dipped over his Vans. He may have been smiling on the outside but as Phi pushed me inside the small wooden den, I couldn’t help but realise that there was nothing he could possibly have to smile about on the inside.

  
  


“Chaz? Are you alright? Look I know this is a shock. I’m sorry, you did want to know though.”

  
  


Phi’s voice grazed over my head as I sat down inside the dusty shed on top of a pile of brightly coloured cushions and began to fiddle nervously with the beaded edge of one of them. Clouds were moving across the moon again, fading the thin, silvery slithers of light that were peeking through the tiny panes of window around us. Phi sat down opposite me and grabbed my hand. I looked up at him with questioning eyes.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“I understand you’re shocked. So was I.”

  
  


“Do you think it was a one off?”

  
  


Phi looked down at his hands before somewhat paling as he looked back at me, confirming my worst fears.

  
  


“I can’t say for certain, but I don’t think it was. No.”

  
  


“How could he do that to him?” I whispered, shaking my head, “I have to go and talk to Mike.”

  
  


“No Chester, not right now,” Phoenix reasoned, “Sleep on it. You might see things differently in the morning.”

  
  


I bit my tongue, not wanting argument number four to occur within so few hours of the new day. How would I see things any different in the morning? To me they would still be the same; black and white. Brad. Raped. Mike. Simple as. I shuddered at the thought and nodded my head in agreement to Phi’s wishes.

  
  


Maybe, just maybe, I’d feel a little calmer in the morning?

  
  


“Come on,” Phoenix whispered as he got to his feet and started to unfold a pile of blankets, “We can sleep here,” he smiled softly as he placed the throws on the floor and began shifting some cushions around.

  
  


I nodded weakly as he lay down and, kicking off my scuffed boots, I found myself doing the same, wrapping my arms around my tired body and turning my back to Phi. I felt his hands sliding around my waist and I tensed, not in the mood for any form of contact. This didn’t seem to deter Phoenix though as he crept closer still, hands roaming around underneath my T-shirt which he eased up over my head and discarded to the floor.

  
  


“Stop it,” I murmured, rolling away from him, “I just want to sleep.”

  
  


It’s funny how people can change without you noticing it at the time. Those hands were so loving as they stroked against my bare skin, the kisses he placed along my neck and down my spine were so tender. Everything felt good, especially Phi’s tongue sliding in my ear and the sound of his soft giggle as I finally caved in and rolled over onto my stomach.

  
  


“I’m serious now,” I murmured, “As good as this feels I’m not in the mood,” I told him, “Night,” I whispered closing my eyes.

  
  


“Sorry,” he whispered, sliding his hand around to mine.

  
  


“It’s okay. I’m just tired.”

  
  


“I shouldn’t have told you, should I?” he murmured, causing my eyes to flutter open.

  
  


“No, I’m glad you told me,” I sighed, rolling over to face him, “I just… I don’t know what to do about it.”

  
  


“Who says you have to do anything about it?”

  
  


“Phi, I’ve got to!”

  
  


“So you can’t just turn a blind eye to it, like I’ve done?”

  
  


“No,” I whispered, shaking my head.

  
  


“But why not?” Phoenix frowned.

  
  


Because I love Mike?

  
  


The words lodged in the back of my throat and I allowed my eyes to close. Phi was right in that I needed to sleep on it. All of a sudden I felt lost, I had a thousand directions I could go in, yet I had no idea which was the right turn to take.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


I only slept for a few hours, waking in the early hours of the morning to the sound of birds singing in the trees outside. Phoenix was still fast asleep as I dislodged myself from underneath his arm, my eyes catching sight of the time from his watch. It was just six-thirty. Mike would probably not be awake at this time, he’d more than likely passed out from too much marijuana and would be fast asleep on the kitchen floor or somewhere equally obscure.

  
  


Pushing my feet into my boots, I yawned before opening the wooden door and stepping out on the dewy grass. The sun was already beaming down from a cloud free sky, spreading its rays across my back as I crossed the garden and pushed the kitchen door open. I was greeted by the smell of bacon and eggs and the sight of Rob with a towel wrapped around his hips as he stood in front of the stove and chucked some mushrooms into one of the many saucepans he had laid out.

  
  


“Morning,” he smiled.

  
  


“Hey,” I said as I closed the door behind me, “Where are the others?”

  
  


“Joe’s in the shower, Brad’s gone to get some milk and Mike’s upstairs asleep. Not sure about Phi though,” he smirked, “You hungry? I’m making plenty.”

  
  


“Thanks, I might get some later if there’s anything left,” I nodded, lying through my teeth.

  
  


I couldn’t stomach a thing and was highly grateful that Brad had gone out to fetch some milk. I wondered at the possibilities of the store being out of all varieties and therefore forcing him to go to the gas station. Maybe he’d get knocked down by a truck on the highway. Trying my hardest not to let those thoughts get the better of me, I passed through the kitchen and headed up the stairs, my heart pounding every bit harder the nearer I got to the guest room.

  
  


The door was slightly ajar, windows still open and allowing the curtains to ruffle slightly with the soft breeze that flowed in behind them. Mike was curled up in the middle of the bed, his arms wrapped around himself. I sat down quietly beside him, watching him for a few minutes. He looked so peaceful and a pang of guilt was already starting to worm its way inside my mind as I was about to be the one to shatter his serenity. I found my eyes drawn to his arm, the ghostly silver scar that ran down the inside of his left wrist. Almost ten years on and it didn’t seem to have faded. I winced as my finger traced along it, my eyes suddenly picking up on more tiny marks, faded bruises and childhood scars. The more I thought about it now, the less I believed that they were the childhood scars a happy kid had on them; you know, the ones from climbing frames and football practice, games of pirates and Cowboys and Indians. No, these scars ran deeper than that, didn’t they?

  
  


Mike murmured something and as his eyes cracked open, I pulled my hand away. He slowly woke up, blinking several times, hands batting away the sleep in his eyes as he blearily gazed around the room, finally settling his brown orbs on me.

  
  


“Hey,” he croaked as he sat up and ran his fingers through his flattened hair.

  
  


“Morning,” I smiled.

  
  


Queue the beginning of one of the most awkward silences I’d ever found myself caught up in. I had laid awake for most of the morning going through what I was going to say, attempting to make my words as unimposing as possible, yet as I sat beside Mike, for the first time since I’d known him I couldn’t think of a single thing  _to_  say.

  
  


“Okay,” he frowned, pulling his sweater on, “What’s wrong?”

  
  


“Noth…” I stopped myself, “Mike, you know you can tell me absolutely anything don’t you? And that nothing you tell me could ever stop me caring so much about you, right?”

  
  


Mike’s frowning face emerged as he pulled his sweater over his head and straightened it out.

  
  


“O... Okay,” he nodded, his frown easing a little.

  
  


“It’s just that,” I paused and took time out to give myself a prep talk which compromised of phrases such as ‘just spit it out’ and ‘tell him what you know’ rounded off by ‘oh god, this will surely break him…’

  
  


“Chaz? You okay?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, snapping out of my daze, “Well no… I… Fuck…”

  
  


“Okay, you’re scaring me now!” Mike was looking totally bemused, “What is it?” he asked softly, settling down beside me.

  
  


I took a deep breath and found myself grabbing his hands, “Okay. Did Brad rape you when you were younger?”

  
  


There. Out.

  
  


I flinched as Mike visibly gulped and his hands suddenly became a whole lot colder than they had been a few seconds ago. He stared at the floor and for a few minutes that deathly silence was hanging between us once again.

  
  


“Wh… What makes you ask that?” Mike whispered, eyes still fixed on the floorboards; he wasn’t denying it then?

  
  


“Phoenix told me,” I sighed.

  
  


“Phi?” Mike sounded surprised and finally tore his gaze from the floor, eyes slowly finding their way to my face.

  
  


“Yeah, he, erm… God Mike, is it true?”

  
  


He snatched his hands away, “What did Phi say?”

  
  


“I can’t even remember how we got onto it, but he said when he was about twelve he’d gone over to Brad’s house once when you were stopping there and well, he walked in on Brad and you and there was blood and you were crying and…”

  
  


Mike was paling further still and had somehow retreated from me, frantically pulling at the sleeves of his jumper as he stared vacantly down to the floor once again.

  
  


“Mike?” I whispered, not daring to move closer.

  
  


“He’s lying, Chester,” Mike whispered faintly, getting to his feet.

  
  


“Mike,” I cut in, “Please don’t lie to me…”

  
  


“Chester I have to…”

  
  


“Stop it,” I whispered, grabbing Mike’s hands as I got to my feet, “Mike?”

  
  


He stared at the floor. He was shivering. His eyes closed as his fingers pulled away from my clutch but I wasn’t giving up. I held onto them, rubbing warmth into his cold, clammy palms. Time seemed to stand still and for that moment, I couldn’t do a thing. I felt frozen, almost as if Mike’s emptiness was seeping through his fingertips and erasing all my warmth away.

  
  


“Talk to me,” I begged, my voice shaking as it cut through the silence.

  
  


“Chester, don’t make me do this,” Mike cried, his eyes opening and locking with mine, void of  _anything_.

  
  


I shivered, moved closer and did the only thing I felt my mind would let me do. I pulled his stiffened body against me, wrapped him up in my arms and closed my eyes as he relaxed against me. I could feel his heart pounding against me. He was shaking, just like the night when I found out Brad had been lashing out at him.

  
  


“It’s okay,” I hushed as he began to shake even more, “Everything’s going to be okay…”

  
  


“It’s not,” he sobbed, “It’ll never be okay…”

  
  


_I know_ , I thought vacantly to myself. How could things possibly ever be okay again? We must have stayed like that for a few minutes. Speechless. Empty. Numb. Until slowly, Mike pulled away, his hands resting against my waist. Nothing stared back at me. Nothing there. Nothingness was all that greeted me when I opened my eyes and Mike was staring at me.  _Nothing_.

  
  


“I know things won’t be okay,” I whispered, “But I can try to make things better…”

  
  


“It’s too late,” Mike’s voice sounded hollow, “There’s nothing anyone can do.”

  
  


“Don’t speak like that…”

  
  


“Just forget about this,” he whispered, his hands slowly moving away from my waist.

  
  


“I can’t! And I fucking well won’t,” I hissed, making a grab for his hand.

  
  


“Don’t argue with me Chester,” he sighed, “Please don’t argue with me. This is how things are. This is how things have been for a long time and how they’ll stay,” he paused and dug his feet into his sneakers, “I need to take a walk, clear my head.”

  
  


“What? Mike, you can’t just walk away,” I shouted as he turned and headed towards the door, “Mike! Please, just let’s talk and sort things out and…”

  
  


“Talking won’t change a thing,” Mike sighed, stopping in the doorway, “We could talk and talk until the world ends and it wouldn’t change a fucking thing,” he paused and glanced up at me, “I love you Chester. I love you so fucking much and that’s why I want you to just forget about this whole fiasco. You don’t need it in your life, you don’t need to get hurt…”

  
  


I frowned, tried to process Mike’s words, only they weren’t making any sense. What did he mean about me not needing it in my life, getting hurt?

  
  


“You can’t just go,” I tried again, “Mike I need…”

  
  


“Please,” he sighed, “I just need to be on my own.”

  
  


I nodded reluctantly, watched him walk down the stairs, listened to the front door as it opened and clicked shut again and then I slowly slid down to the floor, not even wincing as my knees banged against the wooden floorboards. I sat there and stared into nothing. I felt breathless and empty. I felt lost. I also felt like I could kill Brad Delson.

  
  


“Shit,” I hissed, “Fucking SHIT,” I exclaimed again, getting to my feet.

  
  


I raced down the stairs, almost knocking into Phi and Rob as my feet pounded across the hallway. One look from Phi, one scornful look and I knew he  _knew_  I’d been talking to Mike. Well, what the fuck did he expect?

  
  


“Hey, what’s wrong?” Rob asked.

  
  


I didn’t even grace the drummer with an answer, ignored Phi’s glare and disappeared through the front door without a single word.

  
  


I almost ran down the driveway, hoping Mike would still be in sight but to no avail. I could go left, right, or straight ahead, but I knew whichever way I went could well be the wrong way. My feet somehow took to the right and I was running down the street, lighting up a cigarette and begging luck be on my side, that I found Mike before he did something stupid.

  
  


Hazy mornings in Phi’s neighbourhood weren’t meant for anyone without a purpose to be about. That’s what my racing mind concluded anyway, as I wove my way through upper class suburbia where everyone seemed to be safe inside their houses watching morning TV, eating breakfast at their leisure and reading the morning papers. The only people I saw were a bored looking kid halfheartedly shooting hoops in his yard and a middle aged guy in a sharp suit polishing his car. No Mike. No  _one_.

  
  


I turned another corner, was greeted by another row of uniform houses with white picket fences and trim lawns. It was a far cry from the place I’d grown up in with mismatched bungalows and uneven driveways; stray dogs and burnt out cars; drunks wandering around looking for a place to nap and dusty track ways meandering between houses and leading into rundown trailer parks.

  
  
  


Trailer parks.

  
  


Mike had lived in one when he was a kid. During one of his mother’s more lucid periods. He’d lived there with her and her boyfriend. His name was something like Evan or Edge or Brock.  _Brock_ , that was it.

  
  


I crossed the road, doubling back on myself until I reached a children’s playground. Pushing the brightly painted gate open, I passed swings and sand pits, all neatly arranged and graffiti free until I came to the other side and jumped over a low, black fence where my feet landed on older, slightly worn asphalt. The houses here were starting to show their true age and BMWs and Mercedes were replaced by SUVs and the odd hatchback. Lawn regulations didn’t seem to be so tightly enforced here; I even spotted a weed or two growing in cracked driveways. I came to the end of the cul-de-sac and hopped over yet another fence. The scent of highway greeted me, accompanied by the soft hum of traffic.

  
  


I looked ahead, my eyes scanning the long, straight road before me. It was a fucking long shot but something inside me knew that Mike was walking a few miles in front of me, entering that trailer park and the safety of Brock’s home. He’d once told me he often went there to smoke some pot or forget about the world. With that in mind, I jogged down a dusty embankment and began the long walk.

  
  


My throat was dry by the time I reached Sandstorm Park and its neon-edged signpost crooked by design and rusting at the edges. There was nothing uniform about these trailers. Some white and faded, some decorated elaborately with garden gnomes and trailing rose plants, some rusting and burnt out and finally, plot twenty-seven, your average traveler’s home belonging to Brock. The metal stairs creaked as I stepped on them and tapped my knuckles against the frosted glass of the front door. It opened a few minutes later, revealing Brock, tall and tanned with blonde dreadlocks and a warm smile. Fuckable if it weren’t for the fact he was more or less my best friend’s father figure.

  
  


“Chester,” he smiled.

  
  


“Hey. Mike’s here, right?” I asked, taking note that he didn’t seem at all surprised to find me on his doorstep.

  
  


He glanced down the hallway then back across to me before grabbing a jacket from behind the door.

  
  


“Look, I’m heading out to the store for a few things so whatever you guys need to sort out, feel free to do it inside,” he paused, lowered his voice, “Just be careful though Chester. I take it he’s not been using for a while?”

  
  


“What? Well, not really…”

  
  


“Well he was in a right state when he got here, desperate for a fix and God knows what else… Just tread carefully.”

  
  


He moved aside, motioned me in before exiting through the door which softly clicked into place behind him. I stood still for a few seconds, scanning the slightly familiar walls and the soft smell of sandalwood. Mike was sitting in the kitchen, staring into an empty mug. I was barely in the room when he spoke, his eyes still fixated on the green cup in front of him.

  
  


“You followed me.”

  
  


“Not exactly,” I sighed, pulling out the wooden chair and sitting down opposite him, “Gut feeling told me you’d be here. Guess I wasn’t wrong then?”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“Why what?”

  
  


“Why’d you come here?”

  
  


“To talk.”

  
  


“What about?”

  
  


“The weather?”

  
  


Mike slowly glanced up, scowling at me, “Don’t.”

  
  


“Don’t what?”

  
  


“Turn this into a joke.”

  
  


“Do I look like I’m joking?”

  
  


Mike sighed, pushed the mug away and tutted loudly.

  
  


“I just want to be on my own for a while,” he sighed.

  
  


“Well I don’t think that’s a good idea…”

  
  


“Look, I’ve dealt with this on my own for long enough…”

  
  


“Yeah and that’s done you so much good hasn’t it?”

  
  


Mike glared at me and I snatched his hand.

  
  


“Look, I just want to help, okay?”

  
  


Mike’s glare slowly softened, “I know,” he nodded, “I know…”

  
  


“Then why won’t you let me?”

  
  


“I can’t…”

  
  


“I don’t understand. I’m here for you to confide in and you can’t?”

  
  


“It’s not that easy.”

  
  


“I know it’s not easy, Mike. Nothing  _is_  easy these days. But at least you could try and talk…”

  
  


“I wouldn’t know what to say. Where to begin.”

  
  


“At the start?”

  
  


“Don’t give me that,” he sighed, pushing my hands away, “I’m scared, Chester. I’m so fucking scared.”

  
  


“That’s why I want you to talk to me. I want to help you, Mike.”

  
  


“But there’s nothing anyone can do!”

  
  


“How do you know?”

  
  


“I just do, okay?”

  
  


I stared at him blankly, “How long were you going to keep this to yourself?”

  
  


“…”

  
  


“Please Mike? I know this is hard but you’ve got me and at least I know now. I mean does that not make things better? Does that not affect you in any way?”

  
  


Mike pushed his chair back, jumped up from his seat with wide eyes.

  
  


“Oh you think it doesn’t affect me? Do you know how many times I’ve wanted to tell you?” he seethed, “Do you know how many times I’ve played out this perfect little scene in my head where I tell you every  _fucking_  thing and then you hold me in your arms and tell me it’ll be fine and suddenly I can see in colour for the first time since I was a child and then everyone else just vanishes and it’s just you and me? Countless times, that’s how much I’ve wished for it.”

  
  


I stared back at Mike, slightly startled as he turned to the sink and his glazed over expression became fixed upon the star shaped wind chimes that were dangling innocently from the ceiling.

  
  


“It can be that way if you want it to be,” I murmured naively.

  
  


Of course it couldn’t; we both knew that and Mike’s exasperated words, they only accentuated the reality that was teeming down upon us.

  
  


“No it can’t,” he whispered, shaking his head.

  
  


Silence lapsed between us, silence that was only broken by Mike’s sudden sobs and the scraping noise my chair made when I pushed it back and strode over to him. I wrapped my arms around him, ignored the fact that he stiffened when I touched him, and his arms clamped tightly to his sides when I tried to embrace him.

  
  


“I won’t let him hurt you anymore,” I whispered and Mike let out a heavy sob before his arms grasped around my body, clinging onto me for dear life.

  
  


+

  
  


That moment; that one stretch of time will never ever leave my mind. I remember it all so clearly. From gazing intently at the bright red tiles behind the kitchen sink; the spider plants that trailed their leaves lovingly along the window ledge; the rainbow coloured blind that was half open and allowing the mocking sunlight to creep in between its slats, to the star-shaped wind chimes that swayed softly in time with me as I rocked Mike’s shaking body against my own. I’ll never forget that; that and the feeling of  _nothingness_  that accompanied it.


	21. split off

Mike and I lay on our bedroom floor, a joint resting in the ashtray that sat between us on the wooden floorboards. Mike was lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling with a blank expression on his face. He’d been that way for over an hour, just staring and barely moving. Rewind three hours and I’d been cradling him my arms in Brock’s kitchen. When the tears stopped they’d been replaced with a numb, empty Mike and after persuading him to come back home, this is how we’d been. Sitting in silence.

  
  


I really didn’t know what  _to_  say though.

  
  


I was so angry and was having a hard time pushing away the feeling that I really wanted to kill Brad Delson. I couldn’t begin to get my head around everything and was cursing myself for sleeping on it like Phoenix had suggested. I absently wondered what other secrets my boyfriend was in on. He seemed to be the champion at keeping them. Not that any of this was his fault. I just wanted it all to go away and when I finally realised that Mike was no longer staring at the ceiling, but at me, I put that thought aside because it was happening and I had to deal with it. I had to help Mike.

  
  


“What are you thinking?” he asked.

  
  


“I’m thinking that this is fucked up and you shouldn’t have gone through this alone. Why didn’t you tell me, Mike?”

  
  


“What use would that have been? It wouldn’t have taken it away. It wouldn’t have stopped him.”

  
  


“He… He’s the person who abused you isn’t he?”

  
  


Mike nodded his head.

  
  


“And he’s never stopped, has he? I mean, all this time, he’s been doing that to you and I…”

  
  


“I’m good at pretending,” Mike told me with a shrug, “So don’t go beating yourself up about it…”

  
  


“But I knew he hit you, Mike! I knew he used you as a punch bag and I didn’t do a thing about it! I’m so fucking angry with myself! He put you in hospital the other week and what have I done? Kept my mouth shut!”

  
  


“Don’t,” Mike shook his head, “Don’t say that. I didn’t want you to know. I didn’t want you to stop it.”

  
  


“But you must want it to stop…”

  
  


“Yes,” Mike whispered, “But I was scared he’d hurt you too Chester. I was scared of what he’d do if he knew you’d found out. I was scared of what you’d do.”

  
  


“I’ll fucking kill him, that’s what I’ll do.”

  
  


“No!” Mike gasped, suddenly sitting up, “You can’t let him know. You can’t tell anyone--”

  
  


“Mike!” I hissed, getting to my feet, “He’s not going to hurt you again, okay? It’s over and I’m going to make sure he gets the fucking message, this time.”

  
  


“But it’ll kill him,” Mike murmured, void of the energy to shout back at me. His head dropped to his knees and he closed his eyes.

  
  


“What do you mean?” I frowned, crouching down in front of him.

  
  


“He’s… Brad was abused when he was a child. Have you heard of the phrase ‘cycle of abuse’?” he asked me, looking up through bleary eyes.

  
  


“Yes,” My voice softened as I replied.

  
  


“That’s all it is. He needs to do this. It’s the only way he can cope.”

  
  


“Cope with what?” I swallowed.

  
  


“The memories. His father. I…”

  
  


“Mike,” I paused, “It’s no excuse Mike. You don’t hurt anyone so why should Brad?”

  
  


“It’s not that simple.”

  
  


“Then tell me.”

  
  


“I don’t know if I can,” he gulped, “I’m so scared. I really…”

  
  


“Mike I want to help.”

  
  


“I know,” he replied meekly.

  
  


“Then?”

  
  


“It started when I was a kid, first it was his dad,” Mike paused, “Then Brad started. He used to touch me and I really hated it, but he said that it’s how his dad had showed him he cared and that he was only doing the same to me. He started getting more violent when we started high school. I didn’t really know how wrong it was until then. I guess because I never really had my mom around that I wasn’t as clued up on sex as I should have been. When I couldn’t take the pain anymore, I tried to get away but I guess I never did.”

  
  


“You should have told me. You should have told me when I first met you and--”

  
  


“Yeah,” Mike smiled wryly, “Because that would’ve been a  _great_  opener. ‘Hi, my name’s Mike and my best friend has been sexually abusing me since I was about nine. I don’t really get why he does it but it fucking hurts. I’ve tried killing myself several times but it never works, oh, and by the way, I’m a crack addict, I can’t sleep at night and I’m scared to run away because Brad says that this is what love feels like’,” he hissed, suddenly rolling up his sleeve and thrusting his bruised covered arm in front of my eyes.

  
  


He had a point and I selfishly began to cry, tears falling down my cheeks as I wrapped my arms around him.

  
  


“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

  
  


“Why?” Mike frowned, “You’ve not done anything wrong.”

  
  


“I should’ve noticed, I shouldn’t have listened to you when you said Brad only hit you once in a while. You should have--”

  
  


“Told you,” Mike nodded against me, “Well, now you know,” he whispered, “Now you know.”

  
  


We stayed like that for a while until my arms began to ache and I reluctantly pulled away, wiping Mike’s tears with the back of my hand. I sat down on the floor beside him and crossed my legs.

  
  


“What now?” Mike asked.

  
  


“We go and talk to Brad and the others.”

  
  


“No,” Mike shook his head.

  
  


“Mike.”

  
  


“Please, Chester you can’t tell him that you know, he’ll… Chester,” he lowered his voice, “Chester, he’ll kill me.”

  
  


“No,” I told him sternly, “No he won’t, Mike. He won’t touch you ever again, okay? I will not let him near you,” I got to my feet again and paced across the room, grabbing our jackets from where they’d been thrown on the bed, “Here,” I thrust him his hoody, “The sooner this is over with, the better.”

  
  


“Chester, don’t make me do this. Look, we can work things out. No one needs to know. I only told you because I trusted you and if…”

  
  


“Mike,” I cut in, “You never even told me.”

  
  


He stared down to the floor, “I wanted to.”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“What?” he frowned.

  
  


“You wanted to tell me so that he’d stop, right?”

  
  


Mike slowly nodded his head.

  
  


“So that’s what’s going to happen.”

  
  


“It’s not that easy though,” he whispered, “Chester… He’ll…”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“He’ll kill us.”

  
  


“Not if I kill him first,” I snapped, “Come on.”

  
  


“No,” Mike scrambled to his feet, “I’m serious, Chester. He’ll kill you. Where do you think his dad disappeared to?”

  
  


“W…What?”

  
  


Mike took a deep breath, “He killed him Chaz. He killed his dad. He said he’d do the same to anyone who found out about us.”

  
  


My heartbeat suddenly hit tenfold and I had to steady myself against the wall behind me. I suddenly felt nauseated, almost like I could pass out any second. This was just getting more fucked up by the minute.

  
  


“I think you need to start at the beginning,” I finally spoke, “You need to tell me everything.”

  
  


Mike nodded and we both sat back down on the floor again.

  
  


"Brad's father started abusing him when he was two years old. It never stopped. And some days it's hard to tell if Brad knows that what happened was wrong. The first time I met Brad's father I was instantly charmed by him. He was so much fun. He played ball with us and took us to the park. He was always smiling and cheerful. He was everything the men my mom used to bring home weren't. I started to go over to Brad's most nights after school and his parents seemed to understand that my mom wasn't too good at looking after me. They made me feel so welcome and Brad," Mike shrugged, "He was the first real friend I ever had. He stuck up for me if someone picked on me at school. He let me ride home on the back of his pushbike. He let me play on his video games and," Mike paused, "If I could go back to that time before it all started, then I would in an instant. When I first met Brad I felt invincible. I felt special," he smiled sadly.

  
  


"It's okay," I said, leaning back against the wall, "Take your time."

  
  


Mike nodded and took a deep breath, "My mom disappeared that year, just two days into the summer break. She left a note pinned to the fridge door saying she couldn't cope. That's all it said. I phoned my grandparents and they came to pick me up. Brad's mom must have been driving by, she called in to see if I wanted to go to the swimming pool with Brad. When my grandma explained what had happened she offered to look after me over the summer. I was so excited. I couldn't wait to see Brad. And it was great, y'know. Every kid’s dream is to hang out with their best friend every single day. Then Brad's grandma got ill. So his mom had to go across the country to look after her," Mike stopped again and stared blankly at the wall for a few moments.

  
  


"That's when it first happened. The first day she'd gone, Brad dragged me into his bedroom. He said that he and his dad had a special game. It was a secret. Brad said it was only for special people and I felt so fucking honoured when he said his dad wanted me to play. I can still see Brad when he told me about it, y'know. It's like, if I close my eyes, I'm back in his bedroom and he's holding onto my wrists and saying 'Mikey, you cannot tell anyone about this game. If you do then you'll get into a whole load of trouble. You'll upset my dad and you won't be able to come here anymore.' And I can see the seriousness in his eyes and feel the way his fingers were digging into my wrists," Mike paused, turned to face me, "I was so happy. I felt like I belonged." He shook his head and swatted at his eyes.

  
  


I gulped, slid my arm under his.

  
  


Mike sniffed, "Brad told me how his dad was waiting in the basement. He told me there were three rules to the game. Don't cry. Don't tell him to stop. And don't fight. I'd only ever been to one birthday party before, so I figured it was one of those games, like the one where they blindfold you and make you put your hands in jelly and you have to guess what is hidden inside? Only when I got down there, there was this massive basement with hundreds of toys in it. It was like a toy factory. And in the corner was a bed and Brad's dad was sitting on it. He wasn't wearing any clothes," Mike stopped again and I suddenly noticed how cold and clammy his skin had turned.

  
  


"Mike?" I whispered, nudging him gently, "You okay?"

  
  


He nodded, "Sorry. I just... I, I turned back. Part of me was scared. But he called my name, said he'd be upset if I didn't want to play. So I went back and he motioned me over to the bed and, God, I don't know why but I went over to it, I fucking walked back over and, fuck! I'd do anything to go back, to go back to that day and just walk away, run out of that house as fast as I possibly could. But I didn't. I walked over and he picked me up. He felt all warm and," Mike shuddered, "I was scared. But there's this sense in your mind, isn't there, when you're a child, that you don't want to make the adults angry. So I let him undress me and pull the covers over us and..."

  
  


Mike stopped all together, suddenly clamping his hand over his mouth. I reached out and tightened my grip on him, catching him as he slipped against me. For a split second I panicked, thinking he had passed out but his eyes were still fixed on me, his hands gently clawing themselves around mine as he straightened up.

  
  


"He raped me."

  
  


I knew it was coming. I knew what Mike was going to say, yet I still felt the hot tears spilling down my cheeks as his cold words echoed from the walls around us. I shivered and clutched back at his hands, steadying him as he leant his head against my shoulder.

  
  


"It hurt so much," he choked out, "And he wouldn't stop and all I could think of was Brad telling me not to cry, not to fight, not to tell him to stop. And I wanted to so badly, but then I kept picturing his dad's face when I'd turned to leave, how lonely and upset he'd looked when I'd turned my back on him, and I just bit on the pillow and let his hands pin me down. There was so much blood. And when he'd finished he held me against him and kissed me everywhere. He took me upstairs and bathed me and tucked me into bed.

  
  


“It carried on from there. We never spoke about it. It just happened. Sometimes he'd just have me. Sometimes just Brad. A lot of the time he'd have both of us. He didn't seem to show any boundaries. I was seven when he filmed Brad fucking me for the first time. I was eight when he made me orgasm for the first time. I didn't know wrong from right, it all blurred, and I knew it was wrong deep down, but I couldn't separate his feelings of love from his fucking abuse. I didn't know what was going on. I just knew it was a secret, and that we were never, ever to talk about it."

  
  


"Did his mom know?"

  
  


Mike shook his head, "She knows now," He sighed, "But she didn't back then. She was blissfully clueless. Brad's father, he was so calculating and… God, he never hit me or threatened me in a violent manner but he did Brad. He used to beat him and then tell me that if I didn't do as he said, the same would happen to me. The older I got, the more I realised it wasn't right. I'd gone back to living with my mom by the time that summer ended but she still took me there a lot. I started to make excuses, and then my mom got really sick.

  
  


“I'd just turned eight. We were moving into a new house. She just flipped out one day. I don't know what triggered it but she woke me up one night, told me we weren't safe and then proceeded to pile me into the car. We drove for six days until she pulled into a motel, booked a room and passed out on the bed. I didn't know at the time, but she was on cocaine at that point. She'd become that addicted that she couldn't sleep. She'd keep stopping when we were driving and snorting this white powder. I finally asked her what it was and she drew me out a line, passed me a rolled up bill and told me to snort it.

  
  


“I felt invincible all over again. So when she was sleeping in that motel room, I found her stash and took some more, enough to overdose on. The cops had to knock the doors down when the motel owner realised we were still in there two days later. They took my mom away and I spent two weeks in the hospital on a drip. So I went to live with my grandma, who was too busy to look after me all the time. I had no choice but to go to Brad's place. I tried making excuses not to go, but she wouldn't have any of it. She wasn't to know though," Mike sighed, shifting beside me.

  
  


"When did he stop?"

  
  


"The day Brad killed him," Mike whispered, his eyes staring again at the wall ahead.

  
  


I shuddered and felt my heartbeat getting faster.

  
  


"He flipped. Once my grandma died I had to move in with Brad when I was almost fifteen. I protested to my social worker but she was adamant that Brad's mom would be delighted to take me in. Brad's father was starting to slip up, starting to leave more visible bruises. He started to get rougher and was often coming into our room at night. He started to drink heavily and I started to see that it was fucked up. I was constantly arguing with Brad and just couldn't stand to be around him. Phoenix and I had met a few years earlier, we bumped into one another one day and started to hang out. I was bunking off school and we'd meet up most afternoons. It's weird, y'know. He'd seen firsthand what Brad's father was like, I'm sure he filled you in on that part. Yet we never mentioned it.

  
  


“Brad started to resent me around that time, started to make accusations, like he became paranoid I was going to tell someone. Then," Mike paused, "Things just... I'd been out with Phi, came back and Brad's mom was out with one of her girlfriends. I walked in on Brad and his father and it was like, it was like Brad wanted it as much," Mike gulped, "He was fucking his own dad and I... I just... I freaked out. I went completely mad at them. I ran away for about a week. I don't even know where I went. I just scored some heroin and took it from there. When I went back, I had the intentions of getting my stuff together and leaving. I figured my social worker could fuck off and I'd be able to live on the streets. I was so fucking naive.

  
  


“And that's when it happened. Brad was standing there in the yard with a shovel. It was almost midnight and I wouldn't have seen him, except when I crept through the back gate I could hear a faint noise, it was the sound of someone digging. Brad's dad was lying on the floor. Anyone could have walked through that gate and seen him. He was pale and, well, he was fucking dead. I remember throwing up and the rest is a blur. Brad told me to go in the house."

  
  


I breathed out the air I hadn't realised I'd actually been holding. Mike had stopped talking and all that remained were his haunting words, a hazy and sickening image twisting into life before my eyes. Mike shifted beside me, let go of my hands and sat up straight. He looked exhausted and for the first time I couldn't see any trace of happiness left. Like it had all been zapped away and those tiny threads of hope he once had had been severed, finally given up and walked away. I rested my hand on his knee. I didn't know what to say.

  
  


"He strangled him," Mike cleared his throat, "He didn't tell me. He filmed the whole thing. Shoved the tape in my hand the next day and made me watch it. I was sick for days. I couldn't look at his mom, she was going out of her mind with worry, wondering where her husband had disappeared to. She was all for calling the cops when Brad flipped out. He told her everything. And Brad's father? He used to film us, guess that's why Brad filmed himself killing him, some sort of sick revenge. So he showed her the tapes. She walked out. We didn't see her for months. Then she came back one day, said it was over and you know what she did? She redecorated the house!" Mike started to laugh, "She didn't mention it. She never asked questions. She acted like he hadn't ever existed."

  
  


"But it didn't stop, did it?" I whispered.

  
  


"Brad started abusing me when we were about nine. He just did it one night, turned to me and said that he wanted to play his daddy's game. I said I wasn't sure. He said there wasn't a choice. He said if I didn't play with him then he'd make sure I had no friends at school; he'd turn his parents and everyone against me. I was scared of him by then. I believed him. Then Phoenix came over one day, and Brad's mom told him to come down to the basement and hang with us. I'd just started smoking weed heavily, realised one day that it numbed the pain a little bit. I was so happy to see Phi, figured this was it. Game over. Brad had this gun, one which his father would threaten us with from time to time. He pointed it to Phi's head and made him make out with me. After that he just kept on hurting me. I tried to get away and after he killed his father, I thought I could escape, but... it's like he's made a huge part of me think that I can't get away, like there's no point trying."

  
  


"You're away now," I told Mike, "Seriously Mike, you're not going back to any of that..."

  
  


"It's never stopped."

  
  


"..."

  
  


"I mean, it's not as often but he still comes to me. Still forces his dick inside me. Still hits me and puts his hand over my mouth until I feel so light-headed I swear I'm on my way out. He tried to kill me on your birthday. I hate myself for lying but..."

  
  


I could feel vomit fast rising from my stomach and placed my hand across my mouth.

  
  


"... That night he took me back to Rob's. We had a huge fight because I was apparently disrespecting him. He started hitting me, had his hands around my neck at one point. Then he shoved me against the wall and threw me against the bath. He raped me, he raped me and I was barely conscious. I couldn't feel a thing, except for the vomit I was starting to choke on. He left me to die and I managed to get to the bathroom cabinet, take some painkillers and I was just about to phone for help when I must have passed out..."

  
  


"Why didn't you say?" I uttered, "For fuck’s sake Mike, I asked you what happened and you…"

  
  


"I know," Mike whispered, "I couldn't be more cliché could I? Only every time I've threatened to tell you he's sat me down, made me watch that film. He strangled his father with his own bare hands. He chopped his body into tiny pieces. He asked if I'd like to see you that way... and I kid you not Chester..."

  
  


"He won't fucking touch me."

  
  


"But I'm scared," Mike suddenly choked out, "And I didn't know what to do or what to say and..."

  
  


"It's okay," I whispered, pulling him against me, "It's okay..."

  
  


It wasn't though. Nothing was going to be okay again.

  
  


I don't know how long we sat like that in a cold and empty silence that didn't seem like it wanted to escape us anytime soon. My fingers felt like ice as I brushed them against my face and pushed myself to my feet.

  
  


"You said Brad still has the tapes?"

  
  


Mike nodded.

  
  


"Where are they?"

  
  


"His place. He keeps them hidden away in a blue holdall."

  
  


"You got a key?"

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


I sighed and ran a hand through my hair. I didn't know what I was doing. Not everything came with a manual these days.

  
  


"Okay," I nodded, "We need to go to the police."

  
  


"No. I..."

  
  


"Mike."

  
  


Mike nodded, he bit his lip and looked up at me as tears began to well up in his eyes once more. It was heartbreaking to watch and as I knelt down and brushed a hand through his hair, I hated myself so much for this.

  
  


"We need to get the tapes. Go to the others and get the police involved. Mike?"

  
  


"I can't go to the police, I can't..."

  
  


"We'll go to Phi's. Brad should be there. We can call the Police from there. You'll have to make a statement but I'll be there, okay? Mike?"

  
  


Mike slowly nodded his head.

  
  


I took his hand, pulled him to his feet and rested my hands on his shoulders.

  
  


"I love you Mike. This is why I'm making you do this."

  
  


It didn't make sense and I hated hearing the words. I was forcing him to do something he didn't want to do, something that was frightening him so much that he couldn't stop himself from shaking. I wrapped my hand around his and squeezed it. It all felt so fast. Like time was speeding up and we were about to race at a million miles per hour. But all the time I’d wasted when I’d known Brad was hurting Mike? I wasn’t about to waste a second longer.

  
  


"We need to go."

  
  


Mike stared back. "Chester?"

  
  


"I love you too," He told me, "And I want you to know you're the most beautiful person I've ever met," he paused, "I'm sorry.”

  
  


I hushed him, "It's not your fault."

  
  


"I just need to use the bathroom. I won’t be long…"

  
  


"Sure," I nodded, letting go of his hands.

  
  


I picked up the phone once Mike had disappeared, dialing Phi's number.

  
  


"Hey."

  
  


"Phi? It's Chaz."

  
  


"Oh," His voice lowered, "What's happening?"

  
  


"Is Brad there?"

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


"Make sure he doesn't fucking leave."

  
  


"What's happened? Chester is everything..."

  
  


"We'll be over in about half an hour. Just promise me you won't let anyone leave. Mike's told me everything..."

  
  


"What do you..."

  
  


"Just tell the others we've got an important meeting."

  
  


"Okay, I'll..."

  
  


I hung up at that point and for those final moments I was waiting for Mike, I paced the room, my hands clammy, my heart racing.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


The lounge of Phi’s house seemed ten times bigger than it had ever felt before. I edged in with a gut full of uncertainty, clutching tightly onto the blue holdall and hating the way it held everything that I wanted to destroy. Yes, everything that Brad had done to Mike was shoved into an old Nike bag. I placed it down as I reached the centre of the room and glanced over my shoulder. Mike did not look good. In fact he looked worse than when I’d seen him tripping really badly. He hovered in the doorway, his fingers clutching onto the doorframe. I was scared he was going to bolt, run away and just disappear but when I caught his eyes I was reassured. He gingerly walked over to me, stopping by my side. I gave his shoulder a squeeze and turned to face the others, who all looked unsuitably bored with the exception of Phoenix, who was resting on the edge of one of the black leather couches, biting his nails and casting worried glances in my direction.

  
  


“I…” I paused and cleared my throat, “I don’t know what to say,” I spoke, my voice echoing off the four walls around me.

  
  


Rob looked up from the magazine he was reading. Joe set down his coffee mug. Phi stood up, wringing his hands together and Brad just stared back at me.

  
  


“Is everything okay?” Rob asked, sitting up on the couch, “It’s just that you look like you’ve seen a fucking ghost.”

  
  


“No,” I shook my head, “Everything  _isn’t_  okay.”

  
  


“Fuck, you’re not leaving are you?” Rob gasped, “I mean is that why you called us for a meeting? Because you’re going? Is that what the holdall is for…”

  
  


“No,” I shook my head, “No I’m not leaving…” I paused, glancing across at Mike.

  
  


“Okay,” Rob said slowly, “You’re starting to freak me out…”

  
  


I closed my eyes for a split second. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to explain it. I suddenly felt my throat swelling up and I knew if this was how hard I was finding it to speak, Mike was feeling this tenfold. I opened my eyes, met with the expectant stares of Rob, Joe and Brad. Phi just stared down at the floor. Perhaps he hadn’t known how to say it either. I took a deep breath and turned to Mike.

  
  


“Roll up your hoody,” I told him.

  
  


Mike frowned, “What?” he whispered.

  
  


“Just do it,” I told him calmly, taking one his hands.

  
  


“See these bruises?” I asked, my voice shaking as I let go of Mike’s hand and tugged the hem of his hoody up to reveal his pale hipbones that were marred with nasty, thick belt marks and tiny blue bruises that only fingertips could have created.

  
  


Everyone had sat up straight now, staring back with confusion dashed all over their faces.

  
  


“What about these?” I asked, lifting his jumper further still, gulping as the thick cuts that lined his stomach came into view.

  
  


“Shit,” Joe whistled, “What the fuck happened to you, Mike?”

  
  


“Brad happened,” I hissed.

  
  


Joe, along with Rob, frowned, “I don’t get you,” he shook his head.

  
  


“Brad did it.”

  
  


“What?” Joe asked, a bemused smile on his face, “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  
  


“Chester?” Rob asked, “Is this some kind of sick joke…”

  
  


“Do I look like I’m fucking joking?”

  
  


“Okay,” Joe held his hands up, “I’m lost, anyone have a clue what Chester here is talking about?”

  
  


“Why don’t we ask Brad?” I suggested, looking across to him.

  
  


He stared back at me, nothing in his eyes, nothing in the way he looked at me. And then he shrugged and leant back against the couch, crossed his legs and just carried on staring back at me. He was looking at me as if I’d just asked him if he wanted a fucking coffee.

  
  


“Brad?” Rob asked meekly, “What’s going on?”

  
  


He just shrugged his shoulders and that alone made my anger bubble up inside a little more.

  
  


“Okay,” I could feel myself losing it, “Okay. I’ll tell you, shall I? Because Mike here is too fucking scared to even open his mouth. Joe, Rob, I don’t know if you knew but Mike was sexually abused when he was a child and through high school. I stupidly thought it had stopped.”

  
  


“What?!” Rob frowned, “Shit I had no idea…”

  
  


“It hasn’t stopped.”

  
  


“What do you mean? You mean it’s still happening, Mike?” Joe asked, casting a worried gaze in Mike’s direction.

  
  


Mike turned away and wrapped his arms around his stomach.

  
  


“Yeah,” I whispered, “Yeah it is.”

  
  


“What does this have to do with Brad…?” Rob asked, his voice trailing off.

  
  


The way in which he paled told me he was fast putting two and two together. I cleared my throat and carried on.

  
  


“It’s Brad,” I could feel my voice shaking and I stared right at Joe and Rob, feeling sick as the colour began to drain from their faces, “He’s the one who’s been forcing my best friend to suck his dick, fucking him until he can’t breathe. Brad’s the one who has been raping him and cutting him and hitting him because he can,” My voice was suddenly growing louder, “He’s been doing this for over ten fucking years and if I had my fucking way he’d be six feet under right this fucking minute,” I hissed.

  
  


“Chester, calm down!” Rob shouted, getting to his feet, “Brad, is this true? Brad? Please tell me he’s fucking with us?”

  
  


Brad got to his feet, casual as anything, shrugging his shoulders in reply.

  
  


“Brad?” Rob shouted, storming over to him, “Tell me he’s fucking lying!”

  
  


“I’m not,” I whispered, “I fucking wish I was…”

  
  


“Brad?”

  
  


“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Brad hissed, pushing Rob away.

  
  


“Don’t you fucking lie,” I whispered, feeling my heart beat tenfold.

  
  


“Mike?” Rob shouted, “Mike is this true? Fuck! Say something!”

  
  


“You don’t believe us?” I snapped, “Fine,” I was shaking as I bent down and unzipped the holdall, grabbing a handful of video cassettes, “You want fucking proof, do you?” I hissed, storming over to the TV in the corner.

  
  


“Chester…”

  
  


I had just pushed one of the tapes into the VCR when Mike’s voice hit my ears. Slowly standing up, I turned to face him, my heart breaking as I saw the tears that were pouring down his face.

  
  


“Please,” he whispered, shaking his head.

  
  


Shit. I couldn’t do that to him. I couldn’t let everyone see what had happened. What the fuck had I been thinking?

  
  


Turning around, I scrambled for the remote control but it was too late, the tape had already started to play and Joe, Rob and Phoenix were watching with ever paling faces as a faded image of Brad violently whipping Mike with a belt splattered across the screen.

  
  


I suddenly felt as though I was in a trance; my eyes glued to the fuzzy image that switched to a later time, Mike looking older and frailer as Brad held him against a wall of some kind before disappearing behind the camera which panned up and down Mike’s body; it was black and blue, covered in jagged cuts.

  
  


I felt sick. I felt like I would physically throw up and had Phoenix not crossed the room and shut off the TV, I probably would have emptied the contents of my stomach onto the expensive looking rug beneath my feet.

  
  


Suddenly the trance I’d slipped into was over; I looked around at the others, trying to suppress the sickening feeling that was still painfully present. Joe and Rob each stared at Brad with contempt.

  
  


“It’s true,” Phoenix suddenly spoke, “I… I didn’t know it was that bad. I didn’t know it happened for such a long time,” he paused, hung his head the way a dog would do had it just chewed up its owner’s favourite slippers.

  
  


“Fuck you,” Brad snapped, starting across the room. Joe, however, stronger and faster was able to grab him, clamping his hand down on Brad’s shoulder and pinning him to the spot.

  
  


“Fuck, Brad… I can’t believe this, what in hell’s name is wrong with you?”

  
  


“It’s not his fault,” Mike whispered and we all turned to face him, expectantly.

  
  


“Mike, don’t say that,” I begged.

  
  


“Why not?” Brad hissed, “I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  
  


“You what? You have to be fucking kidding me? At what point is rape  _right_?!” I yelled, anger running through me.

  
  


“He fucking deserved it. That’s all I’m saying.”

  
  


“That’s bullshit,” I hissed, “No one deserves to be raped…”

  
  


“Don’t give me that,” Brad shook his head, “You know nothing about being raped.”

  
  


“I do,” I could feel my heartbeat racing again, “I was raped. I know how helpless and empty it leaves you feeling, how…”

  
  


“Oh save me the fucking dramatics. I know how it makes you feel.”

  
  


“Then why in fuck’s name are you doing this to him?” I yelled.

  
  


“Because he fucking deserved it. He fucking watched my father doing it to me and he didn’t do a thing.”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “He told me about that. It’s hard to do a thing when you’re six with a gun to your head, Brad.”

  
  


“Please,” Mike whimpered, “Please stop.”

  
  


I turned to face Mike again, “I’m sorry I just…”

  
  


“I can’t do this anymore, Brad,” Mike whispered, “I can’t let you do this to me anymore. For over ten years you’ve been hurting me and I can’t take any more of this,” he slowly turned away, “You’ve taken everything from me and you’ve made me feel so fucking worthless. I’ve longed to tell someone but you’ve made me feel like I’m the one who’s hurting you by admitting this. I don’t want to see you hurt but I can’t… I can’t do this anymore,” he turned back again, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand; that’s about when I saw it - the blood that was meandering down the palm of his hand…

  
  


“ _I just need to use the bathroom. I won’t be long_ …”

  
  


I could feel my face paling, the TV remote falling from my hand and crashing to the floor beneath me, bouncing under a chair as I felt my body rushing over to Mike. I knew I was running but I couldn’t feel the speed of my actions; everything around me slowed down and I could only just make out the cries echoing in my ears, the cries that turned out to be mine.

  
  


“Oh my God,” I gasped, my hands clasping onto Mike’s arms, “What have you done?” I could feel the room around me once again as Mike closed his eyes and turned his face away from me.

  
  


“Fuck,” I choked out as I pushed Mike’s sleeves up. I couldn’t count the cuts he’d made for there were that many, all criss-crossing over one another, all deep with intent, all oozing sticky red blood which was smudging against my fingertips and staining my hands.

  
  


“Fucking call an ambulance!” I shouted.


	22. and my life

The cold wall pressed against my back soothingly, as if it were the only thing stopping me from passing out. My clammy palms pushed against its surface and I took deep, methodical breaths, eyes closed as if I was the only person there. Of course, I wasn't. I was in the middle of the emergency room, panicked mothers and relatives talking incessantly. Keyboards rattling beneath powerful fingers. Soda machines whirring. Doctors. Nurses. Paramedics. I couldn't feel them though. I couldn't feel anyone anymore. I was there in form but in my mind, I was all by myself, pushing further into that wall. Feeling my heart pounding in my chest and feeling my sweaty fingers slide down the stone surface was all that reassured me I hadn't completely lost it.

  
  


Until.

  
  


"Chester? Chester?"

  
  


Rob's voice. Shaking and uncertain. I shook as my eyes fluttered open and everything hit me full throttle. Almost like a truck racing toward me with Mike behind the wheel, blood running down his arms, from his eyes, out of his mouth. I shivered and Rob placed a cold hand against my arm. It brought me back and the sounds, the mother screaming at her child, the lady weeping to herself uncontrollably, they permeated my ears all at once. Then Rob took my hand and pulled me toward him.

  
  


"Let's go back into the waiting room," He spoke, voice cracked and dry, "Joe and Phoenix are worried about you."

  
  


I followed Rob numbly, feet scuffing against the tiled floors. Three hours and still no word. I felt like I wanted to die. Just curl up and sleep and never wake. The cool air of the waiting room hit me as Rob opened the door and led me inside. Everything was grey. From the table and chairs to the carpets and blinds. One big, omnipresent box of grey. I felt sucked inside as Rob closed the door, pushed me toward a seat and held my arm as I sank into it. I couldn't feel my heart beating anymore.

  
  


"We should all stick together right now."

  
  


It was Rob who said that as he took up the chair beside me and gave my shoulder a squeeze. Joe and Phoenix muttered something in agreement, but their wide eyes and pale faces, set in shock at what had happened, were just a mirror's reflection of myself right at that moment in time.

  
  


Little had been said. My voice had drowned in cries the moment I'd shouted at someone to call for an ambulance. The rest of time was shattered, like a mess of broken glass on the floor. I could remember glimpses but not in order, and what I could remember was doused in tears and my heart skipping beats. I closed my eyes. If only to block out the grey. But I found myself playing those pieces back.

  
  


Mike falling to the floor after my words had been spoken. My body falling soon after, hands around his shoulders. His eyes turning black, rolling in the back of his head. Then it was just the screams. The screams and the blood on his wrists soaking into my shirt. Footsteps storming around me. A scuffle breaking out. Something getting smashed.

  
  


I jumped because the door opened and my eyes focused on a tall lady in scrubs. She had blood down them. Mike's blood. Rob must have seen it too, because his hand slipped from my arm down to my wrist and his fingers dug into my skin with uncertainty.

  
  


"Hello," The lady stepped inside and pushed the door to behind her, "I've been attending to your friend, Michael," She paused, "Which one of you is Chester Bennington?"

  
  


"That's me."

  
  


She stepped toward me, eyes not faltering once as she sat down on the last empty chair. I tried to remember if sitting down meant people were dead. Or if they usually remained standing to break such news. She held a clipboard in her hands. A clipboard and a stethoscope.

  
  


"Mike lost a lot of blood," She started and I drew a breath in, steadying myself for the words that were about to tumble from her lips.

  
  


"He lost consciousness whilst in the ambulance and his condition was critical when he came to the hospital. The cuts he made to himself were dangerously deep," She slowed down, probably stopping because tears were starting to trickle from my eyes, "He hit major arteries on both his wrists, which is the reason he lost a life-threatening amount of blood. The lack of blood in his body meant a lack of oxygen in his vital organs and his brain. This is what led to him falling unconscious."

  
  


My breath hitched in my throat. I was shaking now. I couldn't see her face anymore for the tears.

  
  


"Mike's undergone major surgery to repair the arteries in his arms and right now he's on his way to the ICU after he's undergone a blood transfusion."

  
  


"ICU?" Rob whispered, his voice startling me at first, "Is he on life support?"

  
  


"Yes. Yes he is. Your friend is in a coma."

  
  


+

  
  


My head throbbed. I felt like I'd woken up from a bad dream with that dry, nasty taste in the back of my throat. Only, I'd not been asleep. Just sitting and staring into nothing. A wall with torn posters about teenage pregnancy and local weight loss classes stared back at me, but I couldn't see it properly. Not really. Not for the tears that had settled and stained the lenses of my glasses. The corridor was cold. Cold and empty. And the chair I sat on was hard. Hard and plastic. My legs crossed beneath my body, I didn't care how uncomfortable it felt, as I fiddled with the hem of my hoody. I didn't know the time or how long I'd been sitting here alone. All I knew is that today was the tomorrow I'd been dreading. The morning after the night before and I was still waiting to see Mike.

  
  


A door opened. Footsteps came to my ears. I didn't look up. I knew it was Rob and Joe. One sat one side, the other sat to my left, wordlessly for a few moments before Joe cleared his throat and broke the silence.

  
  


"Have you been here all night?"

  
  


I nodded.

  
  


"Chester, you should have gone home," Rob sighed, "There's nothing anyone can do right now."

  
  


I didn't answer. I didn't tell them that going home would have made things worse. I didn't tell them I couldn't have slept in that empty bed without Mike. I pursed my lips and stared at the floor.

  
  


"Is Phoenix here yet?"

  
  


I shook my head. Of course he wasn't. Phoenix never  _was_  around when I needed him the most.

  
  


"So," Joe breathed out, "The doctor that came to see us yesterday? We spoke to her on the way up."

  
  


I finally tore my eyes away from the floor, settling an expectant gaze on Joe.

  
  


"The blood transfusion went well. His levels are almost back up to normal. He's, he's still in a coma."

  
  


I nodded.

  
  


"Will you say something, Chester?" Joe bit his lip, "Please Chaz, you're really scaring me."

  
  


I sighed and shifted in my seat. Reaching into my jacket pocket I found the pen I always carried around with me. My hands slipped around an old receipt and I pressed the tip of the biro to it.

  
  


_If I speak_ , I wrote with a sigh,  _I'll only cry_.

  
  


I capped my pen and pushed the paper toward Joe. I didn't watch him as he read it, my eyes having slipped back down to the floor. Seconds later I felt his arm slip around me and I bravely turned to face him, allowing him to embrace me as I battled with everything inside me  _not_  to break down.

  
  


Joe felt warm and safe and I closed my eyes. I heard the doors opening again, the squeaking of shoes and then a familiar hand squeezing my shoulder briefly before a chair scraped against the floor and silence prevailed.

  
  


I don't know how long the four of us sat like that. Dishevelled. Torn. Waiting. Dreading. I felt myself drifting to sleep, still leaning against Joe, whose hands were clamped tightly around my waist. All the gay jokes in the world couldn't have moved in and I thanked him silently for that. I realised I had a lot to thank him for, but the words remained locked in my chest, alongside tears and sobs desperate to make their escape.

  
  


It had been Joe who'd started that scuffle, the one I could barely remember, as at the time my lips had been pressed to Mike's, trying to breathe life into him all over again. But later, sometime last night, they'd told me Joe had grabbed Brad as he tried to make an escape. He grabbed him and threw him to the floor. But my screams and frantic cries had stopped his fists and in the split second he glanced over to me as I sat on my knees with Mike's blood smeared all over my hands, that was the moment that Brad had turned and fled.

  
  


And now he was nowhere to be seen.

  
  


"Is he asleep?" Phoenix whispered.

  
  


"Yeah," Joe's voice seemed so far away, "He is."

  
  


Was I? I felt drowsy and clawed at Joe's jacket. I didn't know. My eyes were closed, but I wasn't dreaming.

  
  


"He stayed here alone last night," Rob began.

  
  


"I thought he was leaving with you," Phoenix spoke.

  
  


"We thought he was leaving with you," Rob whispered.

  
  


"Let's not argue," Joe paused, "Just... you and Chester are, y'know, together, right?"

  
  


"Something like that."

  
  


"Just, be there for him Phoenix," Joe continued, "He's been through so much and while I know it's not him lying in intensive care, he's this close to being there. What with the drinking, losing his brother and now this? He needs us, they both do. More than ever."

  
  


My heart was racing again. Dull thud of its beat echoing in my ears so much that I didn't hear the door opening again and the footsteps pounding towards us. It was only when Joe patted my back and I slowly pulled away and wiped a hand across my nose that I saw the doctor standing before us.

  
  


"Hello again," She smiled softly.

  
  


There was something calming about her, yet I still felt sick with nerves as she tapped her pen against the clipboard, scribbled something down and then cleared her throat.

  
  


"You can see Mike now, if you wish," She smiled broadly, "Though," She rushed on, "I have to warn you..."

  
  


I knew the drill. From the countless times before. The wires. The tubes. The machines. Don't be alarmed. Still, knowing it was different to seeing it. And knowing it never took away the shock and never stopped my knees from jittering beneath me. The walk down the corridor seemed to take forever. I stayed glued to Joe's side, then the doctor turned to us, stopping outside a glass-fronted room.

  
  


"One at a time, I'm afraid."

  
  


Everyone looked at me. I bit my lip, bowed my head and hesitantly stepped forward.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Mike lay beside me, fast asleep, and for all the times I’d been in this position before, I couldn’t ever remember feeling this exhausted, scared and worried all at the same time. I lay with my arm wrapped around his stomach, watching him intently. I felt groggy and was aware that my stomach was begging for food, but I’d completely lost my appetite. Mike twisted in my arms and I wrapped my hand around his, squeezing it as his eyes slowly fluttered open.

  
  


It had been like this for most of the night. Mike fading in and out of sleep but this was the first time he’d opened his eyes for longer than a few seconds; this was the first time he’d spoken.

  
  


“What’s the time?”

  
  


“Almost eight,” I whispered back.

  
  


He nodded and curled up against me, his fingers sliding in between mine.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


“Yeah?”

  
  


“I’m sorry.”

  
  


“Don’t…”

  
  


“But…”

  
  


“Mike, there’s no reason for you to be sorry.”

  
  


Mike didn’t answer to that. In fact, neither of us spoke for a while, the only sound that of the neighbour’s alarm clock suddenly bursting into life, followed by a series of bangs and thumps and the sound of their radio being turned on, mingling in with groggy morning voices. I shifted and settled onto my side, drawing circles against Mike’s back.

  
  


“How are you feeling?” I finally asked, noting that Mike still had his eyes wide open.

  
  


“Weird.”

  
  


I smiled softly, “No change, then?”

  
  


He smiled back, gulping notably before tears started to drip miserably down his cheeks.

  
  


“Hey,” I soothed, squeezing him, “It’ll all get better. I promise you.”

  
  


“I don’t know if I can believe that anymore,” Mike whispered, “I want to, I really do.”

  
  


“Then hold onto it?” I could feel my voice cracking, “Please?”

  
  


The ten days Mike had spent in hospital had seen me glued to his bedside. It had taken everything out of me to not completely break down. I’d seen him in hospital beds before with blood soaked gowns and tired eyes but this time had been so much different. This time I’d not been able to console him, to force myself into believing things could be resolved.

  
  


I’d been right. There’d been the tubes, for one. The tubes and the wires. The red stained bandages on his arms and the heart monitor beeping gently in the background. The immense silence that greeted me when I’d walked into the cold, glass-fronted room still hit me every so often. Seeing him there, being kept alive by nothing more than electricity. It had almost killed me. That, combined with Mike’s words assaulting my mind, crashing around inside until I could see only tears. The seat next to his bed had been filled from the moment I sat down to the moment he was discharged. No amount of pleading for me to go home had been successful and Rob, Joe and Phoenix had taken to sitting and watching  _me_.

  
  


“Do you feel like trying something to eat?” I asked, realising the silence wasn’t going to do Mike any good.

  
  


He shook his head.

  
  


“You need to try, you know.”

  
  


“I know.”

  
  


I patted Mike’s back and let him slip closer against me. His eyes drooped and gradually shut and I knew that this was what it was going to be like. Something like climbing a familiar hill in the rain. You sort of know where to go, but you can’t quite see if you’re right.

  
  


The phone rang and I sighed, gently pulling myself out from under Mike. The floor felt cold beneath my bare feet as I crossed the room and unhooked the receiver from the wall.

  
  


“Hello?”

  
  


“Hey Chester.”

  
  


“Phoenix,” I smiled, leaning against the wall, “Any news?”

  
  


“No, none yet. The police still reckon he’s left the country. They’re not quite sure where he’s gone though. There’s still not been any sightings; they’ve alerted passport control, but it’s just a matter of waiting.”

  
  


I glanced over at Mike who had turned to face the wall, covers pulled up over his body. I made sure to keep my voice low as I spoke.

  
  


“So he’s definitely left America?”

  
  


“Yeah, no doubt about it. He bought a ticket to the UK on Tuesday. He was seen at LAX and boarded the eighteen twenty flight. And that’s as far as they can track him.”

  
  


I sighed.

  
  


“How’s Mike doing?”

  
  


“Still groggy. I think the painkillers combined with the sleeping pills and the anti anxiety are just about doing the trick.”

  
  


“Shit man,” Phoenix sighed, “How are you?”

  
  


“Holding up,” I paused, twisting the phone cord around my hand, “Just about…”

  
  


“Listen, Rob’s coming by later. He’s going to move in with me, his rent just got doubled.”

  
  


“Doubled?” I rolled my eyes, “He could barely manage it before.”

  
  


“I know right? So I said he could come stop at mine. I mean, there’s plenty of room. Chester? You still there?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I nodded, “Sorry, I’m just tired.”

  
  


“It’s okay,” Phi paused, “So, what if I pick Joe up later on and we all come round? Do you think Mike would be up to it?”

  
  


“Yeah,” I smiled, “Yeah, that’d be really great. I think we need to y’know, stick together.”

  
  


“Alright,” Phoenix answered, “Later dude.”

  
  


“Later,” I sighed, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of my stomach as I placed the phone down.

  
  


_Dude_?

  
  


But when I walked back over to the bed and sat down with a dejected sigh, Phi had faded from the forefront of my mind. And fast. Mike rolled onto his back and opened his eyes, questioning me with his frown.

  
  


“Phoenix,” I told him, “He’s going to come over later, if that’s okay?”

  
  


“Sure,” Mike shrugged.

  
  


“To see you,” I continued, “He’s worried. We all are.”

  
  


“I’m sorry,” Mike murmured.

  
  


“Will you stop saying that?”

  
  


“I just think it would have been easier if I’d died.”

  
  


I closed my eyes and turned my head so Mike couldn’t see the tears that were threatening to spill.

  
  


“I can’t believe you even think that,” I whispered, my tears wiped away with the back of my hand as I turned back.

  
  


“It’s true though. I’m hurting you.”

  
  


“You’d hurt me if you were dead.”

  
  


“No, I wouldn’t.”

  
  


“You know what?” I sighed, getting to my feet, “I’m not arguing over this, Mike. I’m gonna take a shower.”

  
  


“Whatever.”

  
  


I walked away, bathroom door rattling as I slammed it shut behind me. I sat down on the edge of the bathtub for a few minutes, just to catch my breath. I knew I was being an awful person for yelling at Mike, for turning away when he just really needed someone there with him, by his side.

  
  


The water from the shower burnt my skin as I stepped under the faucet and blindly grabbed a bottle of shampoo. I couldn’t help rushing as I roughly washed my hair, worried that Mike wouldn’t be breathing by the time I returned. It was irrational, really but having just spent the better part of ten days sitting by his side, watching nurses and doctors do everything they could to keep him alive, it was all I could think of. And now it felt like we were back to square one, Mike pushing me away and refusing to admit that anything had ever happened.

  
  


It couldn’t go on. I decided that pretty promptly as I climbed out of the shower, hastily dried my body and pulled on some much needed clean clothes. I leant over the bath and put the plug in, twisting the faucet on and splashing in a copious amount of bubble bath, a bottle that I’d jacked from a motel bathroom during the summer. It smelt of cookie dough and I absently watched the bubbles rise up as the hot water poured into the tub.

  
  


“Alright,” I called as I marched down the hallway and into the bedroom. Mike was lying stomach down on the bed and I stopped at the foot of it, yanking the covers away from him.

  
  


“I’ve run you a bath,” I told him as he blinked back at me, “Then we’re going to have something to eat. And then we’re going to talk. Okay?”

  
  


Mike groaned and turned onto his side, clutching a pillow against his chest.

  
  


“I mean it, Mike. This whole shutting-me-out thing ends right this minute. I am not wasting a second, I’m not going to hang back any longer, okay?”

  
  


“You’re serious aren’t you?” Mike asked.

  
  


“Deadly.”

  
  


Mike sighed and slowly got to his feet. He grabbed some clothes from the floor and walked out. I found myself staring at the now empty bed. That had been easier than I thought.

  
  


“Chester?”

  
  


“What?”

  
  


“You forgot to turn the taps off.”

  
  


“Oh shit,” I muttered, slinging my dirty pyjamas to the floor and hotfooting it down the hallway.

  
  


Mike stood with a smirk as I barged past him and stopped the water running just in the nick of time. I sighed, rolled up my sleeve and slid my hand into the hot water, pulling the plug out to let some of the water drain away before pushing it back in again.

  
  


“There, your majesty,” I mocked, “Anything else?”

  
  


Mike stared at me blankly.

  
  


“What?”

  
  


He held his arms up, thick white bandages grinning back at me.

  
  


“Oh.”

  
  


“Which is why I’ve been avoiding water.”

  
  


“Yeah well,” I smirked, “You smell.”

  
  


“I smell?!” Mike laughed, “Have you sniffed your armpits lately?”

  
  


“Bitch.”

  
  


“Odour.”

  
  


I raised my middle finger.

  
  


“Seriously Chaz, how am I supposed to take a bath when I can‘t get these bandages wet?”

  
  


“Look, I’ve seen it all before,” I sighed, turning my back on him and covering my eyes with my hands, “I’m not peeking.”

  
  


I heard Mike sighing. Then a couple of seconds later, shuffling around behind me, “You better not be,” He huffed.

  
  


“I’m not,” I laughed, “Are you in yet?”

  
  


“Is this how you talk to all your conquests?” Mike asked as I heard the sound of water splashing.

  
  


“Normally my conquests are hot,” I growled, “Can I look yet?”

  
  


“Alright. But fuck, how am I supposed to wash? Can I not take these off?”

  
  


I smiled, a laugh escaping me as Mike sat in the bath, body covered by generous amounts of bubbles; hands and arms outstretched in the air in an awkward manner.

  
  


“The nurse said you have to keep them on until your check up tomorrow.”

  
  


“Bitch.”

  
  


“I’ll wash your hair.”

  
  


“Thanks.”

  
  


“Yours is the anti-dandruff shampoo, right?” I quipped, kneeling down beside the tub.

  
  


“You know something? Anyone else and I would have royally kicked their asses by now,” Mike smiled softly.

  
  


“And I’m the exception because…”

  
  


“Stop digging for compliments,” Mike laughed, “And don’t even think about getting shampoo in my eyes.”

  
  


We were back to normal, albeit via a shaky start. It was hard to believe that a week ago Mike had tried to kill himself. It was hard to believe a few days ago he was begging me to take him home, tears sliding miserably down his face when I told him he couldn’t be discharged until he’d been on suicide watch for two more days. It had broken my heart, yet as I deliberately poured too much water over his hair and flicked suds in his face, it didn’t feel like any of that drama had ever happened.

  
  


Catching sight of his bandaged arms, of the tired bruises that marred his skin, they reminded me that it had, in fact, very much happened.

  
  


I’d nearly lost him. Forever.

  
  


+

  
  
  


“Pancakes, waffles, bacon, maple syrup  _and_  ice cream. Are you trying to give me heart failure?”

  
  


“Yes,” I nodded, “Joe and the others are coming in a while, you know what pigs they are. Besides, I epically fail at cooking. And you’ve just offended me,” I sniffed, plonking myself down next to Mike at the kitchen table.

  
  


“No I haven’t,” He smiled as I pushed a plate toward him.

  
  


“Shut up and eat,” I joked, grabbing a pancake from the leaning tower I’d piled lavishly in the centre of the table.

  
  


“I don’t think I can,” Mike sighed.

  
  


“What’s wrong?”

  
  


Mike shrugged.

  
  


“You remember the second doctor that came to see you?”

  
  


“The shrink with the red glasses?”

  
  


“Yes, Doctor Madison,” I nodded, “And that  _thing_  she said about you being more open with your thoughts?”

  
  


Mike sighed, “Okay. I’m nervous about seeing the others.”

  
  


“Why?”

  
  


“I… I just am. Like, it was hard enough telling you what had happened…”

  
  


“They’re not expecting you to tell them everything that happened, Mike.”

  
  


“But it makes it harder for them, not knowing. I mean, not knowing all the details.”

  
  


“It’ll get easier, with time. Besides, it’s not like this is the first time they’ve seen you since it all happened.”

  
  


“It’s the first time I don’t have a chance to pretend I’m fast asleep in a hospital bed.”

  
  


“It’ll be okay, Mike,” I smiled, “Look, they all adore you - they just want to see that you’re okay, let you know they’re there for you. Just like me,” I added as an afterthought.

  
  


“I know,” Mike sighed deeply, “God, I just, I don’t feel like this is real y’know? And I’m sorry if I’m tetchy with you at the moment, it’s just strange to adjust to. I mean, knowing that everyone knows and that, maybe it’s come to an end.”

  
  


“There’s no maybe,” I frowned, “It has ended.”

  
  


“I heard you on the phone.”

  
  


I fiddled with my fork, suddenly stuck on what, exactly, to say. It hadn’t been an easy week really for Mike, to say the fucking least. A failed suicide attempt; four days of being kept alive by a machine; coming round to learn that Brad  _fucking_  Delson was on the run? That, alongside the battle I was having with him to seek some professional help, I was also trying to get Mike to give the police a formal statement. So far they only had the few barely answered questions he had replied to whilst still high on morphine. It was down to me to persuade him to go to the station tomorrow - something I’d so far avoided mentioning.

  
  


To put it lightly, it was taking its toll on me, so what in fuck’s name was it doing to Mike? All of this because of one man, one man who had destroyed so much.

  
  


“Come on,” I nudged him gently, “You can’t take those on an empty stomach,” I said, nodding toward the boxes of painkillers and anti anxiety pills that sat alone by the sink.

  
  


“He’s still out there, isn’t he?” Mike asked, his voice suddenly timid.

  
  


“Yes,” I nodded, “The police are doing everything they can.”

  
  


“Not a lot of good though, is it?”

  
  


“It’d be easier if you’d talk to them. So far they only have what me and the others have said.”

  
  


“I don’t know,” Mike sighed, pushing his plate away from him, “I…”

  
  


It was a battle I wasn’t about to win. I nodded and patted his hand.

  
  


“Eat something. Just a bite? You’ve got to keep your strength up.”

  
  


“I’m not hungry.”

  
  


“Just one…”

  
  


“Okay,” Mike smiled softly, picking up a slice of bacon and dropping it down onto his plate just as a knock sounded outside the door.

  
  


“I’ll go get it,” I nodded, glancing at Mike, “You okay?”

  
  


“Yeah,” He nodded.

  
  


I didn’t believe him, but what could I do? My reassuring words felt like they were fast losing their meaning. I patted Mike on the shoulder as I got to my feet and walked down the hallway.

  
  


“Hey.”

  
  


A strange sense of relief came crashing over me the moment I opened the door to see Phoenix and the others. I stepped forward and wrapped my arms around Phi. Joe and Rob glanced uncertainly at one another as Phi slid his arms around my back.

  
  


“You okay?” He asked as I tightened my grip on him.

  
  


I shook my head, closing my eyes as Phi’s hands rubbed the small of my back. Honestly, I pretty much could have stayed that way for a long time. But, there was Mike to think of. Reluctantly, I pulled away and stood aside, Phi’s hands still against my waist as Rob and Joe hesitantly stepped through the doorway.

  
  


“How is he?” Rob asked, shrugging off his hoody.

  
  


“He’s not bad right now... Just nervous.”

  
  


“Because of us?”

  
  


“He feels awkward,” I nodded, “He’s just worried that things aren’t going to be the same again between any of us. He’s in the kitchen,” I paused, “Help yourself to food.”

  
  


“Okay,” Joe smiled reassuringly, “We’ll cheer him up,” He nodded, turning down the hallway with Rob.

  
  


“It’s so hard,” I murmured as Phoenix pulled me toward him, “I feel like there’s nothing I can do to make things better again. Like, we’re just stuck now.”

  
  


“It’s gonna take time though,” Phoenix told me.

  
  


I nodded glumly.

  
  


“Hey,” He sighed, “Don’t take this all onto yourself to fix, Chester.”

  
  


“I’m not,” I mumbled, “I mean I physically couldn’t anyway. I’m pretty much useless right now as a friend.”

  
  


“That’s not true. Mike needs you, okay? And you’re doing a more than great job of being there for him.”

  
  


“Yeah? Sure doesn’t feel like it.”

  
  


Phoenix sighed and rubbed my arms, “Did you mention something about food?” He asked with a smile.

  
  


“Yeah, come on,” I reluctantly pulled away from his embrace and led the way to the kitchen, pleased to see that inside Joe and Rob were piling their plates high and Mike didn’t look as frightened as I was fearing he would.

  
  


“Hey Mike,” Phoenix walked on in and over to him, patting him on the back. He leant down and said something to him in a low voice, but the words I didn’t catch.

  
  


For a few moments I watched from afar as Mike sat silently in the corner and the others ate and smiled and did their utmost to make him relax. From where I stood, everything looked okay, didn’t it? Four friends together at a table eating food. But step a little closer and what was really there? A guy in his late teens who was trying to hold it together for everyone. Joe, stuffing food down to fill the void the troubles in his life were making. A guy with eyes that hid everything so well, happy and smiling on the outside but hiding everything that was on the inside. And then there was Mike, hollow and empty, pale skinned and barely alive.

  
  


I had to step out into the hallway for a minute. Just to catch my breath. I was no different. I was teetering on the edge of sanity and I knew that one tiny push and I wouldn’t be able to bring myself back.


	23. goes running

The world of car valet had never appealed to me. I could just imagine all my teachers from high school, the ones with lowest expectations of me, sitting with smug smiles on their faces, watching me as I finished yet another mind numbing shift.

  
  


When Mike had been with me it had been tolerable. But right now Mike wasn't working any longer and as I removed my cravat and started the engine of my car, I thought that with any more of this bullshit, neither would I.

  
  


As I hit the highway, I was longing to be home already. The dread in the pit of my stomach had been present for the past five hours, and now at two in the afternoon, it was still refusing to budge. It had to do with the fact that I was on my way to tell Mike the police were expecting him around four o'clock, just to go over what had been happening and to get him to make a formal statement. There was little they could do on the accusations the others and I had made. No, they needed evidence. They needed Mike's word.

  
  


Drumming my fingers against the steering wheel the entire drive, it kept me almost sane. I felt so restless and jumpy as I parked up, cut the engine and walked across the parking lot. I was scared Mike was going to lose his nerve. Or worse still, he was just going to call the whole thing off. I had a lot of convincing to do, to make him realise this was something he had to do.

  
  


The door had been double locked so I rapped my hand against it. Joe answered with his daughter fast asleep in his arms. Of course, I couldn't have gone to work leaving Mike alone. Erin had conveniently not been seen for over a week. Something I was sure was a blessing in disguise, in all honesty. I knew for a fact Mike didn't want her to know anything that had happened.

  
  


"Hi," I smiled as Joe shut the door, "You okay?"

  
  


"Yeah," He nodded, "I have to dash though. My shift starts in an hour."

  
  


"Thanks," I smiled.

  
  


"Hey it's okay. I wanted to hang out with him y'know, it's been an eternity. He's asleep, by the way," Joe nodded, grabbing his jacket, "Let me know how it goes?"

  
  


"I will do. We're all meeting up tomorrow, right?"

  
  


"Five o'clock at Phi's house."

  
  


Joe left and I stood alone in the hallway for a while. Then I took a deep breath and walked into the lounge. Mike wasn't sleeping anymore and I absently wondered if he even had been, or if it had just been some ploy to get Joe to stop asking if he was okay every five minutes.

  
  


"Hello," I sank down onto the couch next to Mike.

  
  


"Hi."

  
  


"You alright?"

  
  


"I guess. How was work?"

  
  


"Lame."

  
  


"I can guess."

  
  


"Hmmm."

  
  


"Chester?"

  
  


"Yeah?"

  
  


"You're going to make me do this, aren't you?"

  
  


My mind flashed back to the night before, after everyone had left and we were sitting alone in the kitchen. I'd told Mike about going to the police. I'd told him what we'd told them. I'd told him that they needed more evidence, more to go on before they could take up a serious enquiry.

  
  


"I'm not," I shook my head, "I'm not going to make you do anything. But I'd strongly advise it."

  
  


Mike nodded and then, "If I go and talk to them, you'll be there, right?"

  
  


"Yes. If that's what you want."

  
  


"That's what I want."

  
  


"Okay," I paused, "Are you ready to face them now?"

  
  


"What, like, right away?"

  
  


"Yeah. Right away."

  
  


Mike didn't answer for a while. He looked pale and tired and like this would surely break him. Then he turned his head and nodded. And the rest, as they say, is history. Only in this case it's history that hurts and sticks around forever more. History that has no escape.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


I blew smoke out through my lips and eyed the glass of whiskey that sat in front of me on the kitchen table. No one would know. That's what I thought to myself whilst I'd poured it out and that's what I was thinking as I snaked my fingers around the cool glass. No one. Would. Know. I pressed it to my lips, shivering as the warm liquid touched me. I closed my eyes, tilted back my head and swallowed the entire shot. Then I placed it down on the table, stole a glance over my shoulder and crouched down. I pulled the bottle out from under the sink and uncapped it. This time there was no need for a glass. It flowed from the bottle down my throat in one swift motion. And then I heard the floorboards creaking behind me and froze to the spot.

  
  


"Chester, honey you don't have to stand here in the dark."

  
  


I opened my eyes, slowly crouched down and hid the bottle away. Light flickered into the kitchen as Erin flicked on the lights and I slowly turned to face her, barely recognising Mike's mom as she stood before me. Her hair was black, cut in a bob with short bangs. She wore a fake fur bolero and short black dress that skimmed her ass. A suitcase stood at her feet and it was only then that I saw Brock standing in the doorway.

  
  


"Hi," I managed to utter, suddenly fascinated by the heels on Erin's patent shoes.

  
  


"Miss me, honey?" She smiled, striding over to me and wrapping her arms around me. She smelt of cigarettes and air freshener.

  
  


"Where's Michael?"

  
  


"He's sleeping,” I said. “Where've you been?"

  
  


"Holiday! I went to the beach. Swam in the sea and watched the sun set," she stopped, lowered her voice, hand slipping around mine as a giggle escaped her lips.

  
  


Underneath the air freshener was the smell of Vodka. But she was gone now, trailing back into the hallway and leaving Brock and I staring blankly at one another until he cleared his throat.

  
  


"She turned up on my doorstep an hour ago," Brock shrugged, "When did she go missing?"

  
  


"About ten days ago. I mean, that's the last time we saw her. She's always taking off, y'know how it is."

  
  


"Yeah," Brock nodded, "Yeah I know."

  
  


"Oh Michael! Look at you!"

  
  


I glanced up as Mike stumbled out of the bedroom, obviously woken by the noise Erin was making as she pulled yet another suitcase down the hallway. He followed her into the kitchen, standing in the doorway with a frown.

  
  


"Hey… Brock… What's going on?"

  
  


"I was going to ask you the same thing," He lowered his voice as Erin wandered into the lounge, "She turned up at my place completely off her head. What's happened?"

  
  


"I don't know," Mike's eyes were wide, "I mean, I haven't seen her. I thought she'd..."

  
  


"Well come on Mike," Brock sighed, "She disappears for ten days. Weren't you worried? Did you call the police?"

  
  


"It's not been easy," I cut in, "Mike's been in hospital."

  
  


"What?"

  
  


"Yeah," Mike sighed, fiddling with his sleeves, "So we weren't here a lot of that time. I assumed she was okay. Sorry."

  
  


"No, it's," Brock frowned, "What happened son? Are you okay?"

  
  


Mike stared at the floor. Then at me.

  
  


"He tried to kill himself."

  
  


"Mike?"

  
  


Mike said nothing but it was a short lived silence, broken by the sound of the television that Erin cranked up. Trance music burst through the doorway and I sighed, pushed myself away from the cupboard I'd been leaning against. It was three in the morning. Mike didn't need this right now.

  
  


"What happened?" Brock asked over the music, stopping me with a hand against my shoulder as I walked past him.

  
  


"It's nothing," Mike answered, "Nothing that can't be fixed."

  
  


"Listen. I'm going to stay for a few days, okay? Your mom needs someone to look after her and I'm not about to dump that responsibility on you."

  
  


"Did you let her drink?" Mike asked.

  
  


"..."

  
  


"She was doing pretty well."

  
  


"I didn't know she was trying to kick alcohol," Brock held his hands up, glancing toward me.

  
  


"Yeah well," Mike shrugged, "I don't blame her for wanting to drink."

  
  


"Did someone say drink?" Erin chirped as she danced back into the room, "Say Chester, why don't you get that bottle of whiskey out," She smirked, "You know, the one you hid under the sink when I came in?"

  
  


I bit my lip. Already Mike was giving me an incredulous look. But Erin had swooped over to the cupboard, reached behind the door and grasped the bottle with her manicured hands.

  
  


"Come on kids," She smiled, "Brock, get some glasses. I want to propose a toast to brighter things."

  
  


Brock sighed and shuffled off his coat. He lit a cigarette up and pulled glasses from the cupboard. Erin poured the drink and held up two of the tumblers between her thumb and forefinger.

  
  


"It's okay," I shook my head.

  
  


"Come on! Toast with me! Or at least take it, have a nightcap," She laughed, fingers clicking to the beat of the music.

  
  


Brock raised his eyebrows and shrugged. He took the glasses and passed them over to me. I sighed and turned away, walked back to the bedroom where Mike had already slipped away to. Brock was supposed to make things better, isn't that what Mike had always said to me? That out of all Erin's men, he'd been the most responsible. But then again, here I was, leaning back against the door as it shut and pressing one of the glasses to my lips.

  
  


"She's a mess. Even Brock can't fix her this time."

  
  


I joined Mike in the middle of the bed. I didn't say anything. Not even when he took the other glass from my hand and downed it within seconds.

  
  


"Guess I'm not surprised," He shrugged.

  
  


"I thought she was doing okay."

  
  


"That's the thing," Mike murmured, "She's never going to  _be_  okay. That she stayed sober that long was a personal best for her."

  
  


"And Brock?"

  
  


"What about him?"

  
  


"He's okay, I mean, he'll take care of her, right?"

  
  


"Yeah. She'll be okay. In the end. She always is."

  
  


"What about you? You feeling better now?"

  
  


Mike fidgeted with his glass until I pried it from his hand and placed it down beside mine on the floor. Talking to the police had taken its toll on Mike. They'd asked him question after question until he begged them to stop and broke down in tears. The female officer who had sat in the room which was furnished for rape victims (plush sofa and pink and green flowered paper on the walls) had switched off the tape recorder and left us alone. I'd had to hold a cup of water up for Mike to drink, he'd been shaking that badly. And when it was over, all the questions and the photos and the tears, I'd driven us back here, only for Mike to disappear into the bedroom and hide beneath the covers. These were the first words we'd spoken since.

  
  


"I guess."

  
  


"You're bound to be shaken," I told him, "It was pretty heavy going."

  
  


"Shame it's going to be no use though," Mike muttered.

  
  


"Don't say that."

  
  


"It's true. What can they do? They have one video to use as evidence. They can't prove anything, or more to the point  _I_  can't."

  
  


"You want a hug?" I asked.

  
  


Mike smiled for the first time that day and nodded his head. I scooted closer and opened my arms. When he crawled between my legs and wrapped his arms round my shoulders I felt utterly useless because wasn't I supposed to know the right words to say, the right words to help?

  
  


"I could stay like this forever," was what I eventually said followed by, "You know I'd never do anything to hurt you right? You know that I only wanted you to go through this afternoon because you can't let him get away with what he did to you."

  
  


"I know," Mike whispered, "I know."

  
  


"You've got to be positive Mike. You've done your part now. The police are going to do everything they can do to track him down."

  
  


"What about Brad's mom?" Mike suddenly asked, "I mean, they're going round there to the house and they're going to dig up the yard and find her husband and she doesn't deserve this, any of this Chaz. She took me in when I had nowhere to go and…"

  
  


"Ssh," I whispered, "It's not your fault."

  
  


"That's not how it feels. It feels like everything that's happening right now is down to me."

  
  


"No," I told him firmly, "It's not like that. And no one's thinking that either, okay? We should sleep."

  
  


Mike sighed, "I wish I was tired. I thought sleeping pills were supposed to help."

  
  


"Are you worrying about going to the hospital?" I asked.

  
  


"Yeah. Is it that obvious?"

  
  


"I wish I could stop you from worrying," I sighed, "I wish there actually  _something_  I could do to make things better."

  
  


Mike pulled away, moving his head from where it had been resting against my shoulder. His eyes softened as he looked at me.

  
  


"You're doing just great," He paused, his eyes lingering on mine, "Thank you."

  
  


I felt myself smiling and pulled him back against me, "Sleep."

  
  


+

  
  


My head throbbed, eyes struggled to open, and when they did I winced at the shaft of sunlight that was hissing, uninvited, through a crack in the blinds. I groaned and lifted a hand to rub the sleep away. I was hung over. A dead weight clung to my stomach, pushing me down against the mattress. At first I thought it was from the whiskey, the two glasses and the half bottle that I'd consumed so ravenously. Then I realised it was Mike, fast asleep and pressed against me.

  
  


My whole body stiffened as I saw his pale hands wrapped around the comforter, his face buried deep into my stomach, thighs tangled around my legs. Then I relaxed, felt a smile gracing my lips as I placed a hand against the back of his head. He stirred a little but remained fast asleep. I felt something I  _knew_  I shouldn't. I woke up next to Mike most mornings, it was nothing out of the ordinary, yet something I couldn't quite put my finger on sparked inside me. It felt better than waking up with Phi tangled around me. Safer. More comforting.

  
  


The clock beside me and its red, digital glare tore me away from my thoughts. We'd overslept. Mike's appointment was in an hour. I groaned and cursed and in the process woke up Mike. He raised his head, bleary eyed and frowned at me.

  
  


"It's nine o'clock," I stretched my arms out, "We need to get ready."

  
  


"I don't feel well," Mike rolled off me and onto his stomach, clutching the sheets around him.

  
  


"Good job we're going to the hospital then," I reminded him, getting to my feet and walking round toward the door.

  
  


"I don't want to go," Mike whined as my fingers wrapped around the handle.

  
  


I sighed and turned around, hand dropping to my side.

  
  


"Come on," I paused, "You've got to go, Mike."

  
  


"I don't. You can ring and cancel the appointment."

  
  


"Yeah, I could. But I'm not going to."

  
  


Mike closed his eyes and buried his head into the pillow. He was still like that when I came back from the shower and sat down beside him on the bed. I placed my hand on his shoulder and his eyes fluttered open. They were red and puffy and I noticed the tear tracks that had marked his face. I sighed and rubbed his back gently.

  
  


"It'll be over sooner than you know. They just want to check your arms and..."

  
  


"I can't go out there," Mike burst out, "Chester I can't go out there. It was bad enough yesterday. I don't want to leave..."

  
  


"Hey," I slid off the bed and dropped to my knees, "Hey, you'll be with me all the time. I won't leave your side if that's what you want."

  
  


"He's still out there though," Mike shook as tears spilled down his cheeks, "No one can stop him, can they? Not even now. I thought it'd be okay, you know? I always thought that once I told you what had been happening that I'd suddenly feel fine," Mike sniffed, "It's nothing like that, Chester. It's worse. I don't even want to be here. If I can just sleep then it's okay. I don't need to go to the hospital or..."

  
  


"You're going," I told him firmly, my hand sliding down to his and gently tugging it, "I'm going to run you a bath and then we're going to eat breakfast and then I'm driving us to the hospital."

  
  


Mike didn't react. Just lay there limply until I got up and walked into the bathroom. I leant against the edge of the sink and glared at myself in the mirror. A jaded, pale, fuck up of a man staring back at me and hopelessly saying ' _You can't do this, Chester_.'

  
  


+

  
  


"He either stays of his own accord or we force him."

  
  


The room was big, white and impending. I felt I'd shrunk to the height of the bed Mike was sitting cross legged on, in a paper thin hospital gown that barely reached his knees. The nurse in front of him was swabbing at the jagged, angry red lines which danced up and down his thighs and the nurse talking to me was standing, arms crossed in front of her, stern expression on her face.

  
  


I glanced over to Mike and suddenly, I didn't recognise him anymore. His arms shone white in their fresh bandages, making the rest of him seem strangely paler. His eyes, red and tired, stared back at me as he steadily shook his head from side to side.

  
  


_No_. That's what he was saying to me.  _No Chester, don't leave me here_.

  
  


"It will only be for a few days, a week at the most," The nurse finally continued, "Your friend needs help, help which can only be provided at the hospital."

  
  


Mike cried out and the nurse attending to him stopped her actions. She glanced up at the nurse before me, unable to hide her worried expression.

  
  


"It's not clotting."

  
  


I tore my eyes away from Mike's thighs and felt a warm hand at my back.

  
  


"I'd like to talk to you outside, if I may."

  
  


I eyed the nurse wearily before nodding my head. I could hear Mike calling my name, the terrified shake in his voice as I slipped out of the room, but I couldn't look back. The nurse led me across the corridor and motioned for me to take a seat. The chairs scraped against the tiled floor as we sat down and for a moment I was taken back to the time I'd spent here, waiting anxiously for Mike to wake from his coma. I'd been an idiot to let him come home.

  
  


"Okay Chester," The nurse started, "I know this is a very hard decision for you to make but you have to understand we have only Mike's best interests at heart here. He was very brave to leave the hospital last week, against our wishes..."

  
  


"Wait a minute," I frowned, " _You_  discharged him. I came in and he was sitting dressed and he said he was free to come home and had an appointment to attend today…"

  
  


"He discharged himself. With a small bribe that he came back today. We weren’t expecting to see him in all honesty. You obviously did a good job in persuading him to come back…"

  
  


I breathed out, "Oh God..."

  
  


"Which, obviously, he didn't tell you?"

  
  


"No," I shook my head.

  
  


"And I'm understanding you were unaware of the self harm that's happened since he left?"

  
  


"Yes," I nodded, "I had no idea," I gulped.

  
  


"The cuts he's made to his legs are pretty severe. Has he spoken of suicide at all?"

  
  


"Yes," I nodded, "Yes, he has."

  
  


"He's very vulnerable right now, Chester. I don't think being at home is the right thing for him at the moment."

  
  


"I was trying so hard," I whispered, hating the crack in my voice, "I never realised and I..."

  
  


"It's not your fault," The nurse shook her head, "It's something Mike needs professional care for."

  
  


"Is there no other way, I mean..."

  
  


"He's been drinking and the blood tests we took when he came in show high levels of alcohol. If Mike stays here he'll be seen by a therapist twice a day and he'll get the proper rest and care he needs. This isn't you not coping Chester, this isn't something you  _should_  have to cope with."

  
  


I nodded and looked down at my nails. Bitten and swollen. I glanced across to the room where Mike was being cleaned up. How could I have not noticed the cuts? The drinking? The not taking his anti anxiety, but taking too many sleeping pills? All in a matter of a few  _days_?

  
  


The nurse shifted beside me and I got it. I got it, alright. Time was running out.

  
  


"If he never speaks to me again," I looked her right in the eye, "I'll hold you fully responsible."

  
  


She smiled softly. A sure and understanding look graced her face and she got to her feet.

  
  


"I'll give you two a moment to talk."

  
  


I nodded. My feet didn't want to function, to carry me back into that room. Or was that my mind? I wasn't sure. I wasn't sure of anything anymore. The nurse had disappeared and through the parted Venetian blinds I could see Mike was crying; big, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

  
  


"Please don't do this, Chester."

  
  


The door had barely shut behind me when Mike spoke. The nurse that had been cleaning his wounds was in the far corner of the room, attending to an elderly patient who was sitting up in his bed, drinking from the glass she held to his lips.

  
  


"You can't go on like this," I told him, shivering as my hands slipped around the cool, metallic bed frame. I inched closer. Mike turned his head away from me.

  
  


"You said you wouldn't leave me."

  
  


"You said you'd tell me everything."

  
  


Mike looked back at me and a lump formed in my throat.

  
  


"Seven days," I found myself whispering, "It's not that long," I murmured helplessly. Who was I trying to convince here? Mike or myself?

  
  


"Seven days," Mike shook his head, "Seven days will turn into ten and ten will turn into twenty and then a month and I'll never..."

  
  


"No," I cut in, "No. I won't let that happen."

  
  


Silence.

  
  


I could hear my breaths, shaky and desolate in the chilly air. Mike stared at his hands then back at me.

  
  


"Is this my punishment?" He asked, "Is this because I didn't walk away from Brad's father all those years ago? Is this because what I did when I was younger was wrong? Or is this because I was born? I don't think the world ever wanted me here."

  
  


The lump in my throat, the one that had formed out in the corridor, I felt it swelling and begging for release. I shook my head numbly and reached for Mike's hand. He snatched it away but I grabbed his other one and squeezed it tight.

  
  


"It's because you're thinking that way," I managed to choke out, "It's because you don't want to be anymore. That's why you have to stay here."

  
  


The door creaked open. The nurse was back, two attendants following behind.

  
  


"We need to take Mike for some tests," She smiled, coming to a halt beside me.

  
  


"I'm sorry," I whispered, gazing at Mike, "I'm so sorry."

  
  


His cries chilled me to the bone as I let go of his clammy fingers and turned away. My heart was racing in my chest. Thumping, thumping as I walked toward the door.

  
  


"Chester!"

  
  


I paused.

  
  


"Please. Chester!"

  
  


I walked out of the room.

  
  


+

  
  


I didn't know Coby's number, but I knew where Ed lived. That was my excuse for standing at the entrance of the nasty, grey tenement building that loomed above like a manmade, black cloud. I pushed the door open and stared up at the twisting staircase. It made me dizzy. Not enough to turn back and ignore the cries my mind was making, though.

  
  


_Just one line. Just one line. Just one fucking line._

  
  


I grabbed onto the stair rail and climbed the steps, all the while hoping Ed had forgotten my face and the minor fact I'd once smashed his head in with a baseball bat.

  
  


There was a bad smell on the floor Ed lived on. It smelt like something was rotting, crawling up the walls. I hurried down the darkened corridor in search of the door that was always ajar, littered with unopened mail that clung to the floor like a second carpet. A young girl was slipping out from behind the door when I reached it and she glanced up with hollow eyes, void of anything but contempt. She pushed something into her back pocket and then pushed past me. I paused for a moment before my feet carried my wavering body inside the small apartment.

  
  


Everything was damp. The walls, the dirtied floors in the spots that weren't covered in beer cans or bundles of clothes. I picked my way through to the room at the back. Funny that I'd been here only once but could read the way like a map had been imprinted on the inside of my eyes in case I ever needed it. Ed was sitting in a chair. Next to him stood the baseball bat. I nearly bolted but he glanced up.

  
  


"Lost?"

  
  


"I need to score," I told him calmly.

  
  


He smiled. A gap where his front teeth should be. He placed the tips of his fingers together and nodded.

  
  


"You over sixteen?" He asked.

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


"Got cash?"

  
  


"Yes."

  
  


"No one followed you here? Not wired up?" He asked, suddenly lurching himself out of the chair.

  
  


I jumped back as he grabbed me, dirty hands all over me before a snigger escaped his lips.

  
  


"Sit down," He told me, and I felt I better not decline.

  
  


Pushing aside a torn copy of Vogue, I sat on the bed, my fingers resting in my lap for fear of touching the crimson stain that had seeped into the sheets.

  
  


"So, what will it be? Weed? E's?"

  
  


"Heroin," I told him.

  
  


"Heroin?" He repeated, nodding slowly, "I didn't have you penned as a junkie."

  
  


"I'm not."

  
  


"Only junkies are into heroin," He smiled, "Trust me."

  
  


I smiled at him, humoured him with a nod. He disappeared from the room at that point, telling me he'd be back in five. I glanced around, my heart beating dully in my chest. I wondered who could live like this, swamped in a mess of trash and filth. There was mould growing from every crevice and corner of the room, trickling inside dirty glasses holding interesting coloured liquids. The smell of damp mingled with incense burnt the back of my throat and I suddenly jumped up from where I was sitting. Mike was raped on this bed.

  
  


"You're jumpy. You need this bad, don't you?"

  
  


I swung around to see Ed in the doorway, small baggie in his right hand as he stepped inside the room. I dug into my pocket, unraveling the notes that I'd withdrawn on my walk over. The money I'd been saving for a deposit on an apartment. What use was that hopeless dream anymore?

  
  


When I got outside and my lungs filled with the fresh air they'd been craving all the while, I patted the pocket inside my coat and leant against a nearby wall. The sky was dirty, rotten grey but it was too warm to rain and the air pressed down on me as I began to walk. It would take an hour to get to Phi's house. An hour which I hoped would force me into disposing of the heroin I'd just bought.

  
  


+

  
  
  


"Hey, I was just about to phone you."

  
  


"Sorry," I stared right at Phoenix as he stood aside and let me into the hallway. I could smell that perfume again.

  
  


"You alright? Where's Mike?"

  
  


"He's not with me."

  
  


"Yeah, I figured that," Phoenix chuckled softly as he shut the door, "Everything okay?"

  
  


"Hey man! You're here, finally! Oh," Rob paused as he came clambering down the stairs, "Where's Mike?"

  
  


I looked at Rob, then Phoenix and finally Joe who as if on queue had joined us in the hallway. They all stared back expectantly. I drew in a breath, felt that lump in the back of my throat trying to climb free once again.

  
  


"They've got him," I whispered.

  
  


"Who? What's happened?" Rob stepped down from the stairs.

  
  


"They made me do it," I heard myself faintly whispering, "I had no choice."

  
  


Phoenix stepped toward me, slipping an uncertain hand to my shoulder.

  
  


"Let's go and sit down Chester. Then you can tell us what's happened?"

  
  


I nodded numbly, feeling nothing as Phoenix slid his arm around my back and guided me into the lounge. All I could see for a few moments, once he'd sat me down, was the TV in the corner of the room. The video player sat proudly beneath it, like it had done nothing wrong, like it hadn't played the goddamn tape. I shivered.

  
  


"What's happened, Chester? You look like death?" Joe stated, sitting down beside me.

  
  


Phoenix and Rob sat on the coffee table opposite and I tore my gaze from the blank TV screen.

  
  


"He's been cutting himself. Like, all over his thighs. I didn't even notice," I shivered, "I've let him down so badly."

  
  


No one spoke. Probably, they were trying to grasp what the hell I was talking about.

  
  


"Oh," I nodded, "The hospital this morning they, they..."

  
  


"Hey," Rob leaned forward, "Take your time."

  
  


I think I was crying. I wasn't sure. Something cold trickled down my cheek.

  
  


"The psychiatrist recommended that Mike stay in the hospital for a while. I left him there and I really should go back and fetch him because..."

  
  


"Slow down," Rob interrupted, placing his hands on my knees, "He's in hospital? Is that what you're saying?"

  
  


I nodded.

  
  


"And they want him to stay?"

  
  


I nodded again.

  
  


"He'll be okay. You did the right thing."

  
  


"No. You don't understand. He was  _begging_  me not to leave him there. He hates me," I whispered, "He actually hates me."

  
  


I wasn't sure if it was the heroin talking or if I actually thought that Mike hated me. He probably did and I wouldn't blame him one bit.

  
  


"How long are they keeping him in for?" Joe asked.

  
  


So, no one was disagreeing with me. Mike hated me. It was clearly justified.

  
  


"A week. At first."

  
  


"It's for the best. He needs this. He's been through a lot. If he‘s hurting himself… He needs this."

  
  


I didn't say anything. Neither did anyone else. At some point, Joe and Rob must have left the room because when I glanced up Phoenix and I were alone once again. I wished they'd stayed. I could smell that perfume again. I wondered when things got this bad. I couldn't remember the start though and I was entirely convinced there was going to be an end.

  
  


"You can stay here," Phoenix suddenly said, "I don't think you should be alone right now."

  
  


I thought of Mike and how he was alone. Alone and scared in that hospital ward with no one to talk to.

  
  


"I'll be okay."

  
  


"No. You're stopping here."

  
  


I stared at Phoenix. I wanted to tell him I needed to be alone. But then I realised he was only doing what I thought I'd been doing with Mike – the best thing.

  
  


"How long can I stay?" I asked him.

  
  


Phoenix smiled, "As long as you want."


	24. in opposite directions

I leant out of Phi's bedroom window, blowing smoke clouds into the cool, morning air. Today was day five. Day five and my heart was aching so much that my chest hurt. I wasn't sure when I'd last been up this early. It wasn't even seven o'clock and the sun had only just started to shine, a smooth glimmer in the distance. Downstairs I could hear Phoenix making breakfast, like he did every day after his morning jog. All around me the world was carrying on like nothing had happened. It felt like it was only my life that had come to a desolate standstill. I finished my cigarette, flicked the butt out into the yard below and shut the window.

  
  


When I turned around, Rob was sitting on the bed, drying his hair with a towel. I wondered how long he'd been there. I'd not heard him walking in. He smiled at me as he placed the towel down in his lap and tapped his hand against the space beside him. Slowly, I walked over and sat down.

  
  


"Hi."

  
  


I smiled back at him, not saying anything. This was the first time I'd seen Rob since I'd been here. He spent his days working double shifts, his nights hauled away in his room. But now he was here, I didn't have a voice. It seemed to have gotten lost somewhere along the way.

  
  


"So," Rob began. "I'm worried about you."

  
  


I cocked my head to one side.

  
  


"You remember when you stayed with me? When Jack died? And how you spent the entire week drinking?"

  
  


How could I forget?

  
  


"You're just the same right now Chester. Exactly the same," he paused. "Only I can't smell alcohol."

  
  


My cheeks began to burn. I shivered at the same time, like all the heat had suddenly rushed up toward my face.

  
  


"Show me your arms."

  
  


"Why?"

  
  


"I want to check for track marks," he told me simply.

  
  


I sighed. Clenched my jaw.

  
  


"You doing that just confirms my fears," Rob snapped.

  
  


I looked at him. When did he become so serious? So fucking right about everything?

  
  


"I didn't want to do it."

  
  


Rob raised his eyebrows, "Do what?"

  
  


"Don't," I murmured.

  
  


"What? Don't make you  _say_  it? Why the fuck not? I'm sick of you not facing up to things."

  
  


"What?" I frowned, caught off guard. "What do you mean?"

  
  


"You. Mike. Phoenix. Joe. The lot of you. Always pretending about things."

  
  


"I…what…"

  
  


"Okay. So there's Mike and what happened with Brad. Phoenix and what's happening with you. Joe and his fucking whore of a wife who's hurting him and you and your drug habit and the way you never talk to anyone about what's going on inside your head. I can't stand it."

  
  


I paled. I couldn't answer. Not just because, never, in my entire time of knowing Rob had I known him to so much as raise his voice. More because everything he'd said was so true. Mike and Brad. Joe and his wife. Phoenix and I.

  
  


"I'm sorry," I cleared my throat, before rolling up my sleeves.

  
  


It was ugly. The mess. And surprising what could be done in such little time. I think I was more surprised about the cuts than Rob was. Still, I knew they were there. He didn't. He was the one with the right to be shocked and I wasn't, yet I still was. Tiny track marks, over run with sharp, neat lines of red from the blade I'd found beneath Phi's bathroom sink. I couldn't remember doing it. All I could remember was a sense of rage the night I'd come here, having left Mike there all alone. And how very fucking sorry I was.

  
  


"Chester..."

  
  


It was too late. I'd let go. Started to cry. I didn't deserve to. I didn't deserve sympathy or the warm hands that were embracing my body. I closed my eyes and clung to Rob. I didn't want to let go.

  
  


"You've got to stop doing this Chester, stop pushing everyone away. Stop doing what Mike's doing. Can't you see that we all care about you so much?"

  
  


A pang of guilt struck me but I didn't pull away. I sat there in Rob's arms for a long time, even after I'd stopped crying and sniffing.

  
  


"I needed that," I murmured. "I… God… I didn't mean to hurt myself, I was just so angry at everything and..."

  
  


Rob pulled away, "You should talk when you feel like that," He sighed, his fingertips brushing down my red streaked arms. "You and Mike. God, what am I going to do with the pair of you?"

  
  


I smiled coyly and shook my head, "I want this all to stop, Rob. I just want us all to be happy again."

  
  


"So do I," Rob nodded, "so do I."

  
  


"Do you think that'll ever happen?"

  
  


Rob sighed. Someone was coming up the stairs. The door creaked open and Phoenix slipped inside the room. Unaware. Unknowing. As usual. I'd forgotten about my arms. Just lying there in Rob's lap. It was too late to hide now.

  
  


"Hey, I made break... Oh God... What..."

  
  


"It's okay," Rob intervened.

  
  


"It doesn't  _look_  okay," Phoenix shot back.

  
  


"Yeah well, it doesn't  _look_  like you noticed this was happening either but..."

  
  


"Please," I whispered, "don't argue over this. Over me."

  
  


The bed dipped as Phoenix sat down the other side of me.

  
  


"What did you do?"

  
  


"Heroin."

  
  


I knew it wasn't the answer he was looking for. I knew it wasn't the question he was asking. But I said it nonetheless and felt my shoulders relaxing. I took a deep, shaky breath, because Rob was right – we had to stop with the pushing away.

  
  


"Because I figured if I could get high, I wouldn't have to think about what I'd done to Mike. Only when I came down the other night, it's all I could think about. I felt so useless. So much to blame. And I just thought about the night I tried to kill myself when we were touring and I found the blades and went for it."

  
  


"You…you tried to kill yourself?" Phoenix asked.

  
  


"Yeah."

  
  


"What…when was this? Was this when I found you in the motel and you had those bandages on and I went and told Mike and oh God..."

  
  


I felt Rob sigh beside me and his warm hand dropped to mine and squeezed it. I stared ahead. It was strange hearing me say this; talking out aloud and piecing the puzzle of my fucked up existence together in front of my best friends.

  
  


"Why didn't you talk about this before?" Phoenix asked.

  
  


"It wasn't so bad. Not at the time, at least," I paused, thinking how riddled my words were becoming. "It didn't feel like something I needed to talk about. Mike knew. Even though I lied to him and said I wasn't trying to do anything  _stupid_ , he knew..."

  
  


"Looks like he's not the only one who needs help?"

  
  


I jumped, startled at the voice from behind. The floorboards creaked and Joe came into view, walking round toward us and leaning against the window. I wondered how long he's been there. How much he'd heard.

  
  


"I didn't mean that to sound so harsh," He spoke before anyone else had chance, "I'm just… Why do you keep things so close? You need to talk, so do it."

  
  


"You could try that too," Rob murmured and Joe smiled, pulled up a chair and sat down.

  
  


"So, we're all a little fucked up right now?"

  
  


"Yeah," I nodded. "I think we are?"

  
  


We all smiled. Wry, tired, genuine smiles. And that strange sense of relief I'd been craving so badly, it washed itself over me, crashing through the room like a wave on the ocean.

  
  


+

  
  


Joe and Rob were downstairs cooking. Since Joe had turned up with his bags and the final straw of his relationship tattered in his hands.  _Just for a few days_ , he'd said when Phoenix had told him he was more than welcome to stay. I sat on the bed, watching Phoenix light a cigarette. I wondered if what I was about to do was the right thing or not.

  
  


"Phi?"

  
  


"Yup?"

  
  


"Do you ever," I paused as my voice wavered. "Do you ever think we could go back to being how we used to be?"

  
  


Phoenix smiled, "You're breaking up with me again aren't you?"

  
  


I took his cigarette and placed it between my lips, "I just miss you. That's all. I miss how we used to talk and laugh and joke. I don't like it when things are frosty between us."

  
  


"It's okay," Phoenix looked at me, "I won't cry."

  
  


"Stop it," I smiled. "Just…What do you think?"

  
  


He shrugged. He shrugged and it answered me pretty well really.

  
  


"You're so apathetic," I sighed. "Can't you ever just say how you feel?"

  
  


"I'm not bothered anymore. It's just sex."

  
  


"I can't believe you," I shook my head, passing him the cigarette as I started to stand up.

  
  


"No," Phoenix grabbed my hand. "Wait…What I meant to say was…It's hardly like things have gone well anyway. It's like we keep trying and..."

  
  


"It's not there."

  
  


"The chemistry?"

  
  


"Shovel?"

  
  


"Look, I'm not digging a hole here! I'm just..."

  
  


"Putting your foot in it again. God. You annoy me."

  
  


"You're just bitchy because you're withdrawing," Phoenix paused and shot me a smile.

  
  


"That's not even funny."

  
  


"You're laughing," He poked me in the side.

  
  


"It goes," I sighed. "Whenever we're trying to be more than friends, the feeling goes."

  
  


"Yeah, it does."

  
  


"I just...we can be friends, right? I don't want to  _not_  be friends with you Phi."

  
  


"I don't know," Phoenix shrugged. "You just said I annoy you..."

  
  


"Stop it, I can't help being cranky," I pushed him.

  
  


"It's okay. I rather like all this openness from you. I think it's the first time in a long time you've been so outspoken."

  
  


"Whatever," I smiled, taking back the cigarette and placing it between my lips.

  
  


"Who's the apathetic one now?"

  
  


"Fuck off."

  
  


"This is my house," Phoenix retorted, laying back on the bed, "you fuck off."

  
  


I laughed and lay down beside him. Smoke spiralled up from his cigarette until he sat up and pressed it out into the ashtray that lay in wait on the nightstand. He turned around and flashed me a grin before getting to his feet.

  
  


"You want to go join the others in the studio?"

  
  


Suddenly, things didn't feel so bad anymore.

  
  
  


+

  
  
  


Joe, Rob and Phoenix, they all sat in the car around me. Engine shut out, just the sound of racing hearts and Joe shifting in the backseat, leather squeaking beneath him. The sun was shining and I figured that had to be a good sign. Phoenix cleared his throat and I heard someone in the back unfastening their seatbelt. My eyes flicked to the digital clock on the dashboard. Twelve minutes. That's how long we'd been sitting here.

  
  


"Okay," I whispered, "Okay."

  
  


"You ready?" Phoenix asked.

  
  


I felt Rob's hand brushing my head. "Come on Chester, it's not going to be as hard as you think."

  
  


I took a deep breath and nodded. I unclipped my seatbelt and opened the passenger door. Sweet, autumnal air washed over me. I glanced up at the hospital building and then back into the plush car. Everyone stared back at me. Smiling.

  
  


"Okay."

  
  


"Tell him we miss him," Rob suddenly said as I stepped out into the parking lot. "And tell him we, y'know, want him to get better soon."

  
  


"Miss him. Better. Okay," I nodded, pushing the door shut.

  
  


It took another four minutes for my legs to move. And as I walked up toward the entrance, my heart was starting to beat faster and faster; harder and harder. The automatic doors whizzed open and I felt air conditioned air hit my clammy face. People rushed back and forth, porters, doctors, nurses, relatives. For a moment I couldn't move. That blood on my shirt. Those tears in his eyes. That cry in his throat.

  
  


I pushed forward. Took the stairs. Found the ward with the bored looking clerk behind the desk. Her fingernails scraped against the keyboard.

  
  


"Shinoda. Can you spell that?"

  
  


"S-H-I-N-O-D-"

  
  


"A," She smiled, leaning back in her swivel chair, eyes scanning over the screen. "Go on through," she nodded, "the nurse will be waiting."

  
  


A door to the left of where I'd been standing clicked and sprung open. I pushed through it, walls around me turning green; scent turning from sterile to sandalwood. I followed the corridor, my eyes tracing the murals that splashed out against the wall to my left. A set of double doors and I was standing in a waiting room.

  
  


"Chester?"

  
  


I spun around. I didn't know her name. Couldn't remember. The nurse - the one who'd sat with me in the cold, sterile corridor, holding my hand whilst Mike had screamed; telling me this was the thing to do.

  
  


"Hi..."

  
  


"Don't look so scared," She smiled. "How are you?"

  
  


I shrugged, "How's Mike?"

  
  


"He's doing remarkably well. We'd like him to stay another week though. But yes," She smiled, "he's doing good. He's waiting for you," She paused again, "in the communal room. I'm afraid you've only got ten minutes. His therapy session starts at eleven. Anything you need to, ask me on the way out, I’ll be happy to talk, okay?"

  
  


I nodded.

  
  


"Just through there." She smiled again, motioning toward a door with her hand.

  
  


I turned around, walked across the quiet room toward the door. It was painted red, adorned by a sign that said  _COMMUNAL ROOM : SMILING ONLY_. I rolled my eyes and pushed open the door.

  
  


The walls were green, covered in posters. It looked like a children's ward. Photos, posters, soft chairs. And then there was Mike in the far corner, head in a book. My breath shot from me as he looked up.

  
  


Then he smiled.

  
  


My legs shook as I strode over to him. Even though I knew I had to be strong here, I had to be strong.

  
  


Mike stood up, book placed down on the seat beside him and all I could do was step forward until our bodies were touching and my arms were wrapping around him. I felt his hands drawing circles all over my back and I didn't want to let go. Ever.

  
  


"I'm sorry," I whispered. "I'm so sorry for leaving you here."

  
  


"No," Mike murmured. "Don't be. I'm glad you had the guts."

  
  


I pulled away then, smiling sadly at him, "Your hair," I breathed out. "You cut your hair," I murmured, brushing my hand over his shaven head,."I've missed you."

  
  


Mike closed his eyes, bit his lip and pulled me back against him. I breathed in. He still smelt of weed, faintly so, and cough medicine. I wrinkled up my nose and smiled.

  
  


"You smell of cough syrup."

  
  


"I have a cold."

  
  


"You come to hospital and get sick?!"

  
  


"Yeah, that's totally how it works," Mike laughed softly.

  
  


"I don't want to let go of you."

  
  


"I don't either."

  
  


"So we can stay like this?"

  
  


"I don't want you to catch my cold," Mike gently pulled away and smiled at me. "You look sick."

  
  


"I'm fine..."

  
  


Mike raised an eyebrow as he sat down and patted the space beside him.

  
  


"Okay, I'm just feeling a little under the weather," I confessed, sitting next to him and sliding my arm around his shoulders. "Nothing for you to worry over. How are you? How are you feeling?"

  
  


"Better," Mike smiled. "I honestly feel better. I can't thank you enough Chaz because..."

  
  


"Don't," I uttered. "I was so close to coming back and getting you."

  
  


"I'm glad you didn't."

  
  


"How is it here?"

  
  


"It's cool. I get food. Apparently I'm underweight. They feed me extra."

  
  


I laughed and squeezed him, "And the therapy?"

  
  


"It was hard. At first. It still is. But, I've got to talk about what happened or I'll just explode again," Mike sighed, "I'm sorry for everything I put you through. I never meant to hurt you."

  
  


"You didn't," I told him, because it was the truth after all. The only one who had ever hurt me really, that was me.

  
  


"Are you sure?" Mike asked me, "Because I've had so much time to think in here and it's one of my biggest regrets, you know. Even though," He lowered his voice, "I'm not supposed to be having any regrets right now."

  
  


"You didn't hurt me. What happened to you,  _that_  hurt me. I should have figured it out or... I just feel guilty."

  
  


"Don't, please don't feel like that," Mike shook his head. "I was stupid, so fucking stupid. I should have come clean a long time ago."

  
  


"Dwelling on it isn't going to help us though," I sighed.

  
  


"I know," Mike nodded. "I'd just give anything to go back and do things differently."

  
  


"So would I. We've just got to move forward though, we can't go back."

  
  


"You’re right,” Mike sighed. “How are you?"

  
  


"Missing you like crazy," I shrugged. "I feel kind of lost without you."

  
  


Mike beamed at me and nudged me, "Feeling's mutual."

  
  


"I'm living with Phoenix. In fact, we're all there right now and y'know, we really want you to live there too when you come out next week. We've been doing a lot of talking after everything that's happened. We thought it'd be good to all spend some time together? But I understand if you..."

  
  


"No," Mike cut in. "I'd love to. Seriously. Would you go back the apartment and get my things though? I don't think I could stomach being there again."

  
  


"Sure," I nodded, feeling a sigh of relief breeze out of me. "What about Erin and Brock? I mean, I've not spoken to them since you came here, I didn't really know what I'd say. Besides, I've not even been back to the flat."

  
  


Mike shrugged, "Right now, I don't care about them. Being here, it's made me realise who really cares for me. They barely register."

  
  


"Hey," I sighed. "They mean well."

  
  


"They're too wrapped up in their own problems. I don't want to be around them."

  
  


I shivered at the certainty in Mike's voice but didn't push any further. The clock above the door was creeping toward eleven o'clock.

  
  


"Rob, Joe and Phoenix, they all say hello," I smiled. "They were pretty bummed when I spoke to the nurse here and was told only one visitor was allowed. But they say Hi, and they hope you're okay. They're worried too."

  
  


"I'm fine," Mike smiled. "I'm getting fine, anyway. I miss them too. Has anything exciting happened?"

  
  


"Joe's left his wife and I broke up with Phoenix," I shrugged. "Nothing too exciting."

  
  


"Wait a minute? You broke up with Phi?"

  
  


"It wasn't working. I don't need him being all hot and cold on me right now. Plus, it's been on my mind ever since we got back together. I, I guess I stopped feeling for him in a big way. And honestly, ever since we talked, things have felt so much better," I smiled, "Like we're good friends all over again. I just want to forget that we ever kissed in the first place!"

  
  


"As long as you're happy," Mike nodded. "I was ready to kick his ass y'know?"

  
  


"Why?"

  
  


"Because he was making you miserable."

  
  


"You noticed?"

  
  


"Of course I did," Mike nodded.

  
  


The door suddenly opened, a pale skinned nurse appearing with a jug of water in her hand.

  
  


"Two more minutes Mike." She smiled before shutting the door.

  
  


"I don't want to go," I sulked, pulling Mike into a hug, "I miss you too much."

  
  


"Stay," Mike murmured. "Hey," He pulled away. "Let me show you my room."

  
  


I smiled as he pulled me to his feet. Where had that shaking, bundle of fear disappeared to? It felt good to have Mike back and as he led me out of the communal room and down a corridor, I smiled to myself. I was nearly back. Mike was nearly back. We could move on now, right?

  
  


Mike stopped outside a blue door and pushed down on the handle. I followed him into a small room with an enormous window that overlooked the hospital gardens. The sun outside danced inside the room, pouring itself over the simple furnishings; the bed and the chair and the set of drawers.

  
  


"It'll take another five minutes for anyone to find us here." Mike smiled and pulled me down onto the bed, "So extra hugging time ensues now."

  
  


Nothing mattered anymore. Not Brad or Phoenix or my parents or the band or fuck it,  _anything_. My head hit the pillow and I closed my eyes as Mike wrapped his leg over mine and slid his arms around my waist.

  
  


"Chester?"

  
  


"Yeah?"

  
  


"Being in here…it's made me want to stop running away from a lot of things. Like what happened with," He paused, "with Brad. And with Coby and the drugs and," Mike stopped again. "My therapist, he says I should start being more open."

  
  


"I like that idea," I paused as I looked at him. "We're trying to do that too, I mean me and Rob and the others."

  
  


"It works, right?"

  
  


"Funnily enough, it does. I always think that not talking about things, hiding them behind you and turning away is easier. But in the long run, it's everything  _but_  easy."

  
  


"I wanted to tell you something."

  
  


"Shoot."

  
  


"Okay," Mike nodded hesitantly, "Remember that day at your parents house? When we were packing everything in boxes and leaving?"

  
  


"Yeah," I nodded; how could I forget?

  
  


"You remember what you said?" Mike asked.

  
  


"I said a lot..."

  
  


"About, about Josh? You said you felt bad because you weren't thinking about him as much as someone else...?"

  
  


I shivered. Nodded my head.

  
  


"And you said that, that you'd started to realise there was someone else as great as him? And then you said it wasn't Phoenix and I, well, I..."

  
  


"I knew you'd hide in here."

  
  


We both jumped like a pair of guilty teenagers as the same nurse appeared in the doorway.

  
  


"Come on," She smiled, "Time to say goodbye..."

  
  


"I just, just two more minutes?"

  
  


"Okay," She rolled her eyes, "Two minutes," she laughed, closing the door softly.

  
  


My heart, I realised was beating tenfold. Because of the intrusion or because of Mike's words? I didn't know. All I did now is that we were both lying there again; noses almost touching.

  
  


"What I should have said was," Mike paused. "I can't get the words out. I just…I can't even describe how much I care for you Chester, how fucking in love I am with you and..."

  
  


Mike stopped speaking.

  
  


Only because I was kissing him.


End file.
